


Unbound

by NightOwl52



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Gen, Pre-Relationship, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-12 03:39:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 28,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2094306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightOwl52/pseuds/NightOwl52
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jenny is happy to help Abbie in any way that she can, but what does her sister's role as a "Witness" mean for her? Why should they save a world that never cared for them? Rated T for mild language. The story picks up right where we were left at the end of season 1.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Towards the light

**Author's Note:**

> There's a lot of interesting Black (read: American) history that happened during the Revolutionary War that the show hasn't covered, but now that we're going into Abbie's backstory perhaps it will. This story popped into my head and wouldn't let go right after Sanctuary (episode: 1x09) aired. 
> 
> Additional author's notes are posted below.

Jenny knew she was in danger. She expected to find herself sprawled on the side of the road, bleeding and choking on gasoline fumes, but had awoken face-down in a patch of cool grass instead.

She rose to her feet and took cover behind a large tree to survey her surroundings. It was dark and the woods were silent. Patches of fog hung motionless in the air. Shadows flickered through the trees along the far edges of the forest, and while Jenny was certain she was alone, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched.

“Don’t get scared.” she whispered. It was silly considering her circumstances, but uttering that phrase had become a habit in sticky situations, allowing her to acknowledge and contain her fear. “Where am I?” 

This couldn’t be Hell. She wasn’t back in her old cell at Tarrytown Psychiatric, so she quickly concluded that this must be Purgatory. Heaven didn’t make her shortlist. “Yeah right Mills,” she laughed when she realized the omission, “you weren’t going there anyway.”

The sound of rustling leaves broke the silence. Something was out there, and heading her way. Jenny held her breath and leaned to her right, looking for a route that would lead her safely out of the woods. The fog shifted, and a clearing became visible through the mist. A replica of Trinity Church stood in the center of the field. 

Jenny leapt from her hiding spot and broke into a run, heading towards the church. She prayed that this was the same place Abbie and Crane had mentioned back in the archives, and that she hadn’t missed them on their quest to free Katrina.

Their quest. Occupying any type of shared space with the Witnesses could, at times, make Jenny envious of the intense bond the pair had formed so quickly. Abbie was her sister. While she was happy to mend their relationship, she couldn’t help but wonder what her role would be in the years to come.

On the other hand, watching Crane and Abbie deny their obvious feelings for each other was a free source of entertainment. She’d caught them standing a little too close together while researching some apocalyptic horror too often to simply be a coincidence. “Nothing going on between them my ass,” Jenny said, smirking as she continued through the forest.

The fog broke as she approached the treeline surrounding the clearing. Crossing the open field would be the most dangerous part of her journey, so she dove behind a fallen tree and took a moment to determine the shortest route to the church. The eery silence was the only sound she heard above her own breath. Whatever it was that had been following her must have given up, but she didn’t want to stick around to find out. “It’s now, or never Mills,” she said to herself, with one last look back through the woods. 

She lept over the tree and broke into a run, hoping to cross the clearing as quickly as possible. The church’s entrance became visible after a few feet. As she drew closer Jenny became confident that she’d find Abbie, and together they’d find their way back home. She picked up her speed—and ran straight into Moloch.

The force of the impact tossed Jenny backwards by several feet, knocking the air from her lungs. Her disorientation was replaced by terror as Moloch moved to stand over her.

“Jennifer Mills,” he said, as if greeting an old friend. His disembodied voice seemed to be everywhere, bouncing off the trees and echoing through her skull. “You have failed to protect the Witnesses and now you will serve me in the apocalypse.” 

Moloch stretched a taloned hand towards Jenny’s throat.

Fear shifted into anger at Moloch’s declaration. She had not survived parental neglect, foster care, and the long separation from Abbie to be taken down by a cheap trick from a demon who preyed on children.

“No,” she screamed, raising her arms to shield her face. A burst of energy erupted from her hands and radiated outward. The surrounding air rippled in waves that engulfed Moloch, tossing him back towards the forest.

Jenny stood and stared at her hands. The tight control she had managed to maintain since awakening in Purgatory had come undone, leaving her frozen in the middle of the field.

Moloch screamed in anger. Adrenaline flooded Jenny’s system and cleared her haze of confusion. She forced her body back into motion, ignoring the ache in her legs and the burning in her chest as she stumbled towards the church. 

Moloch had recovered, however, and was closing in on her fast. She was preparing to turn and fight when a light appeared in the center of the field. As she drew closer Jenny saw it was actually a lantern, held by a young black woman in a delicate cream and white gown.

The woman beckoned to Jenny with her hand. “This way,” she said, and veered off to the right, away from the church.

“Who are you?” Jenny asked, immediately altering course to follow. She wasn’t sure how, but this woman was vaguely familiar, and Jenny knew that she was safe in her presence.

“Hurry child. We don’t have much time.”

“Wait! Who are you? I have to find my sister,” Jenny panted, struggling to keep up.

“Quickly, Jennifer! Abigail is waiting for you.”

“How do you know my name? How do you know Abbie?”

The woman stopped abruptly and turned around. She placed a hand on Jenny’s cheek. “Your questions will be answered in due time, but first I must get you to your sister.”

The moment was broken and the woman turned to continue their journey. Curiosity, and the desire to put as much distance between herself and Moloch, overruled Jenny’s natural inclination to defy authority, and she followed without complaint.

They continued moving at a hurried pace, eventually reaching the clearing’s other edge and headed back into the forest. This patch of woods was filled with lost souls seeking salvation. Their grotesque forms and pleas for redemption unnerved Jenny, and she hoped Abbie and Crane hadn’t succumbed to any of Purgatory’s temptations.

Crane...the mystery woman said that she needed to get Jenny to her sister. She hadn’t mentioned Abbie’s time traveling companion.

“Hey,” Jenny said, “is Abbie here alone? She came with the other Witness to free his wife—”

The rest of the sentence died in Jenny’s throat as she came to an abrupt halt. Directly in front of her stood the old dollhouse she and Abbie had played with as children, reclaimed from the dumpster behind their home one day after school.

At nine years old, Abbie had been Jenny’s sole caregiver for over a year. She was well beyond playing with toys but spent hours with Jenny behind the locked door of their room, scrubbing the dollhouse spotless before declaring it suitable for their hand-me-down Barbies.

Years later, Jenny realized that it was the best way Abbie could keep her occupied as their father descended into alcoholism and their mother was consumed by mental illness.

“Is this some sort of sick joke?” Jenny asked, her anger returning.

“Language, Jennifer!” the woman scolded, “the answers you seek begin here, inside this house”

“I thought you said you were taking me to Abbie. What the hell is going on?”

Jenny’s patience had reached its limits. She wanted to find Abbie and Crane and leave this place as quickly as possible.

“This house is here because you created it as a sanctuary after your first encounter with Moloch.”

“What?” Jenny gaped, shock and disbelief causing her eyebrows to shoot into her hairline.

The woman merely smiled and took Jenny’s hand. “Come inside, and you will find the answers to the questions that you seek.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I'm assuming Abbie is 29 and Jenny is about 26 during season 1.


	2. Little Sister

Abbie paced the length of the dollhouse living room after repeatedly failing to convince her teenage memory that she needed to find a way home. About an hour ago-Abbie wasn’t sure how time worked in Purgatory-she switched tactics, and joined the girls’ tea party. They chatted over plastic slices of cake and make-believe tea, but the teenagers would shut down whenever Abbie questioned them about leaving Purgatory. She had forgotten that by this point in their young lives, she and Jenny had spent several years in foster care, and were experts at dodging questions from adults.

Their tea party ended as abruptly as it began, however, when teen Jenny started teasing her sister about her friendship with Andy Brooks. The argument quickly escalated, and almost ended in a fist fight after teen Jenny leaned over the table and called teen Abbie “Easy A” in the soft, sweet voice she liked to use before knocking out her opponents. 

It was a low blow. ‘Easy A’ was an ugly nickname the local mean girls had spread around school out of jealousy and boredom. Even adult Abbie had to take a moment to collect herself, both shocked by the pain she felt at hearing that name again, and impressed by teen Jenny’s ability to deftly cut someone to the bone with just a few words; a skill Abbie knew she’d go on to perfect as an adult. 

She separated the girls and sent them to different corners of the dollhouse. Teen Jenny was sulking in the kitchen, shooting dirty looks at teen Abbie, who was still sitting at the table, fuming over their argument.

Abbie sighed and moved to the window. She couldn’t see anything beyond the fog that had gathered outside and turned back to face her teenaged companions. As she she scanned the room her eyes fell on teen Jenny. A pained expression crossed her face as she watched the memory of her little sister.

Jenny was always a handful, even as a small child. She had inherited her high-spirited nature and quick wit from their father. Abbie could remember happier times, when Jenny was his constant companion, glued to his side from the moment she woke up until she was forced to go to bed. That all changed when he started drinking.

Abbie had tried to shield her little sister from the chaos at home, but Jenny was bright and intuitive, ‘too smart for her own good,’ as their mother used to say, and knew that something was very wrong with her family.

Each morning, Abbie would check to make sure Jenny’s socks matched, her hair was combed, and that she’d brushed her teeth—teachers and neighbors might start asking questions otherwise—before leaving the relative safety of their locked room and heading off to school.

One cold, grey day in January they came downstairs to find their mother sitting at the kitchen table and their father missing from his usual spot on the sofa.

“Where’s Daddy?” Jenny had asked, turning to Abbie for the answer.

“He’s gone,” their mother responded. Both girls turned to face her, shocked to catch her in an increasingly rare lucid moment.

Abbie had expected Jenny to cry or to ask their mother what had happened to him, but she never did and rarely spoke of him to this day.

“She always does that.” Abbie’s teenaged memory said, bringing her out of her thoughts and back to the present.

“Does what?” Abbie asked.

“Ruins things,” her teenage self pouted, “she never listens to me.”

Abbie sat next to her memory, hoping to build trust and get the girl to give her the information she needed to leave Purgatory. “What if I told you that you’ll be happy to have her in your life someday?”

“Then you’d be lying!” teen Abbie said as she stood up and stormed out of the room. 

Abbie sighed and put her head in her hands. Her body shook as tears welled in her eyes. She thought of Jenny, of how she questioned the sanity of their plan to enter Purgatory. Abbie had insisted that it was time for her to stop running from Moloch and get some answers, for both of them. She’d promised Jenny that she would return, and that she wouldn't leave her again. But with nothing to show for her troubles, and no foreseeable way back home, fear and doubt began to settle in her heart.

Moloch’s prophecy had come true—a witness had surrendered another witness—and now she was trapped in purgatory.

“I should have listened to Jenny,” Abbie whispered to herself.


	3. Come and See

Sudden movement by the front door caught Abbie’s attention. She reached for her gun and swore when she remembered she hadn’t brought her weapon with her. Both girls leaped from their respective corners and ran to stand behind her. Abbie noted their faces were set in excitement, not fear, and concluded that this strange occurrence might be good news. Perhaps Ichabod was coming back for her as promised.

A portal appeared in the middle of the wide purple door and a woman in a long white dress stepped through with Jenny following close behind.

“Miss Grace!” the girls shouted in unison, pushing forward to hug the woman in white.

Abbie was stunned. Grace Dixon stood before her and smiled as she hugged each teenager.

Jenny looked around, confusion etched into her features, before meeting Abbie’s gaze.

“Abbie—”

“Jenny—”

“What are you doing here?” both adult sisters asked in unison as Grace ushered their respective teenage memories towards the kitchen to give them some privacy.

Abbie hurried over to her sister and pulled her into a hug. “What happened?”

Jenny filled her in on all that she had discovered on Corbin’s tapes, Henry Parrish, and her run-in with Headless. A dull, ringing sound filled Abbie’s head as she pieced together how Jenny ended up in purgatory.

“Am I dead?” Jenny asked, reaching the same conclusion as Abbie.

Abbie shook her head. “No...no I won’t let you pay the price for my mistake—”

“This isn’t about you, Abbie. For fuck’s sake...you and Crane deserve each other!”

“Jenny—”

“Where is Crane anyway?” Jenny demanded as she crossed her arms over her chest. Her expression grew darker by the second as she waited for an answer.

Abbie drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly as she turned away from Jenny to look out of the living room window. “A soul for a soul.”

“What—”

“Katrina said her soul couldn’t leave Purgatory without another taking its place.”

“He left you here?” Jenny gasped. The lighting in the dollhouse dimmed as her anger intensified.

“Jenny, it wasn’t like that...I chose to stay—”

“So you just threw your life away, like you have nothing and no one to live for, so Crane and his wife could live happily ever after?”

The doubt that had been lurking around the edges of Abbie’s mind crept forward. She wasn’t certain of anything anymore, but she was tired of Jenny’s attitude, and they were wasting time.

He’s lucky that I’m dead,” Jenny continued, interrupting Abbie’s thoughts. “I can’t kick his ass but at least I’ll be able to haunt him for the rest of his unnatural life.” The room brightened as Jenny chuckled at her own joke.

“Look,” Abbie said, “I told you that I wanted to get some answers. It was my choice to stay-”

“Oh, that’s it...go ahead and protect your precious Ichaboo—”

“Enough! We have very little time.” Grace re-entered the room and silenced the sisters before their argument could escalate. Abbie noted that the lighting had returned to normal as soon as Jenny’s tirade was interrupted. Jenny, on the other hand, continued to appear unaware of the changes her mood had on their environment.

“What do you mean we have very little time? Grace, what aren’t you telling us?” Abbie asked.

“Wait...you know this woman?” Jenny asked as she shook her head. “The surprises just keep coming.”

Abbie took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. There was no other way to introduce the ghost of your ancestor than to get straight to the point. “Jenny, this is Grace Dixon, our great-great-great-great grandmother. She knew the Cranes during their time and delivered and cared for Jeremy as a baby.”

Jenny opened her mouth to issue what Abbie could only assume was some snarky remark about the Cranes but quickly closed it, stunned into silence.

Grace stepped forward and turned towards Jenny, her face set in a gentle smile, but her tone implied the urgency of their situation. “We have met before Jennifer, but your memory of our first meeting has been locked away in this place since your first encounter with Moloch thirteen years ago.”

“You were there...that day in the woods?” Abbie asked, sensing that she was finally going to get some answers.

“No,” Grace replied. “You were held captive in Purgatory after you saw Moloch raise Jeremy from the earth. I was sent to help you escape then, and I am here to help you again.” She turned and called teen Abbie and teen Jenny in from the kitchen. When the girls were standing before her she placed a hand on each of their shoulders and looked into their eyes. “Remember when I told you that you would be going home someday?” The girls nodded as looks of apprehension appeared on their faces. “It’s time,” Grace continued, nudging each girl towards her adult counterpart.

“But I’m dead...I can’t go back,” Jenny said.

Grace nudged teen Jenny forward. “Your life thus far has been difficult Jennifer, but it will not end today. There is so much more for you to learn, to experience.” She looked at Abbie before turning back to Jenny. “Abigail and Mr. Crane will need you, and your talents, if they are to succeed.”

Teen Abbie walked over to her older self, hand outstretched towards her forehead. As soon as her fingers made contact Abbie found herself transported back to ‘that day’ in the woods, the solar eclipse overhead and fear constricting her throat, making it impossible to scream. Her young mind was trying to process what she had just seen—Moloch, standing over a man that he had pulled up from the ground. Suddenly a woman’s voice echoed through the forest, “Come and see,” she said, her tone full of joy that jarred with everything that Abbie had witnessed.

Moloch looked up and charged towards Abbie. She had just enough time to push Jenny out of the way before he grabbed her. She heard Jenny scream and caught a glimpse of a woman with red hair standing among four white trees as her vision faded to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not beta'd. All mistakes are mine.


	4. The Long Way Home

She was a kid again, walking through the woods with Abbie after school. They were supposed to come straight home and “stay out of trouble”. It was her first day back to class after a suspension for fighting, and their new foster mother didn’t like Abbie’s friends.

“Fuck her,” Abbie said as she trampled through the overgrown brush. “She needs to mind her own business...she’s not our mother.”

Jenny laughed as she followed Abbie, pointing out the solar eclipse she’d studied in class earlier that day.

“You’re not supposed to look directly at the sun,” Abbie said, turning to swat Jenny’s hand down before moving ahead of her.

“But my eyes don’t hurt,” Jenny said, annoyed with Abbie for correcting her.

“That’s because there’s no pain receptors in your retinas. Do I have to teach you everything-”

Abbie stopped talking and threw her arm out in front of Jenny. They had wandered into a clearing and four white trees stood before them.

“Where did they come from?” Jenny asked as she held onto Abbie.

“Be quiet,” Abbie hissed as she tried to push Jenny back up the trail.

Jenny felt Abbie freeze beside her as a monster appeared from behind the trees. It stretched its hands over the earth and a man came out of the ground, just as she’d remembered.

But there were other things in the vision that didn’t make sense, memories that weren’t there before. She knew the monster was called Moloch. He grabbed Abbie just after she’d pushed her out of the way. A woman with red hair stood behind him by the trees, laughing. She remembered chasing them through a portal trying to save her sister and falling to the ground after a flash of light blinded her sight. 

Jenny scrambled to her feet, looking for the light’s source, but found herself staring into the kind gaze of Grace Dixon instead. She shoved Abbie towards her and yelled, “Go. Run. Think of someplace safe. I will be with you soon.”

Jenny took Abbie’s hand and ran, unsure of where she was heading. Moloch screamed in anger, and she could hear Grace’s voice above him, chanting in the same rhythmic fashion her mother used at the kitchen table on her darkest days. 

“Where are we going?” Abbie cried, tears streaming down her face.

“Someplace safe,” Jenny replied. She couldn't remember the last time she’d seen her sister cry; despite everything she’d just witnessed, Abbie’s tears scared her the most. “Someplace safe,” she repeated to herself, not knowing exactly what or where “safe” was in this dark forest. She readjusted her hold on Abbie’s hand, gripping it tighter. “Someplace safe,” she said again, sparing a backwards glance at Abbie.

“Jenny, look!” Abbie said, pointing ahead of her.

Jenny turned and saw a life-sized version of their old dollhouse standing in what had been an empty field. Its cheerful pink windows and purple roof contrasted with their grim surroundings, resulting in an overall air of creepiness Jenny would have never attributed to their old toy. But Abbie’s childhood promise-that this is where they’d always be safe-propelled her forward. She pulled Abbie up the front steps and walked inside, locking the door behind her. 

************************************************************************************************************************************************* 

Jenny was trembling and gasping for air when she opened her eyes. The walls of the dollhouse creaked and groaned around her as an earthquake shook the foundation, making it difficult to stand.

“Is she doing that?” Abbie asked between deep, calming breaths.

“Yes,” Grace replied. She rushed over to Jenny and placed both hands on her shoulders, steadying her and encouraging her to breathe. “She never learned how to control her power.”

“What?” Jenny asked as she looked wildly between her sister and Grace. “Abbie, who was that woman by the trees?”

“Katrina Crane,” Abbie whispered, “we have to get out of here-”

The tremors became erratic as Jenny’s mind tried to process her re-integrated memories. She allowed Grace to pull her into a hug and coax her into a soothing breathing pattern before she remembered herself and spun out of Grace’s grasp. 

“What’s happening to me?” Jenny demanded once she felt she’d reached a safe distance.

The earthquake stopped and Grace moved towards Jenny, who immediately stepped backwards, maintaining the space between them. Abbie stayed rooted to her spot on the opposite side of the room, her expression somewhere between apprehension and anticipation. 

Grace clasped her hands together as she looked between the sisters. “Shortly after Mr. Crane’s death in 1781 the British suffered a major defeat at the Battle of Yorktown, ending the war. Former slaves who had fought for The Crown were abandoned and many were sold back into slavery.”

“What does any of this have to do with us, with what’s happening to me?” Jenny asked. Her patience was now clearly at its limit.

“Imagine the fear you would have felt as a former slave who fought against the patriots and lost.” Grace said, pausing before she continued, “the probability of being returned to your former master was all but certain.” She took a tentative step towards Jenny and motioned for Abbie to come closer. “Over the next few months, those fortunate enough to escape capture fled north to New York, the last stronghold for the British, and sought passage aboard their ships. When General Washington demanded the British return the freed slaves to their former masters there was chaos in the streets. Slave traders arrived from the southern colonies looking to recoup their losses. Each night men, women, and children were pulled from their beds and placed back into chains.”

“Many fled the city,” Grace continued, “seeking sanctuary in Sleepy Hollow until their Certificates of Freedom could be secured.”

“You hid them at Frederick's Manor,” Abbie said, “you guided Crane and I through a secret passageway when we were trapped inside.”

Grace nodded. “The manor and Trinity Church served as sanctuaries to all those in need. When the peace treaty between the Americans and the British was signed, only those who could prove their service to The Crown would retain their freedom and be granted passage aboard the ships leaving the colonies. My husband, Joseph, and I devised a plan to assist as many former slaves as possible. We received word that a small committee of British and American representatives would meet at Fraunces Tavern to assemble a list of Black loyalists and their families. Joseph travelled to the city to visit a family friend employed as a barkeep at the tavern. They used a clever distraction to slip enchanted parchment, torn from my Book of Shadows, between the sheets of the registry used to record the ships passenger lists. I was then able to magically add the names of everyone under my care, no matter their status during the war, saving hundreds of lives from the cruelty of slavery.”

A dull, chiming sound filled the air, drawing everyone’s attention towards the entryway. A pink grandfather clock stood near the front door. Jenny was certain that it wasn’t there when she’d first entered the dollhouse, and upon closer inspection saw that the clock’s face had no hands. 

Grace frowned as she studied the clock’s face. “We are out of time. I must get you home.” she said while looking pointedly at Jenny.

“Wait,” Abbie said, “how are we connected to all of this?” she asked. 

Grace swept by her and stood before the front door. She glanced at the clock again before continuing her story, her voice carrying a sense of urgency that wasn’t there before. “My husband and I earned God’s favor for our service to others in need at great personal risk. As my descendants, you both possess God’s grace, made manifest in Abigail as a Witness and in you, Jennifer, as a witch.” 

Jenny stared blankly at Grace before she opened her mouth to speak. “This isn’t real...this is a trick. I’ve never performed magic.” 

“I speak the truth,” Grace replied. “When you were a child, your mother bound your powers on Earth, which adheres to the laws of nature. The magic you were born with is available to you here, in Purgatory, because it exists in the supernatural realm.”

“Mom’s a witch and she knew about all of this?” Abbie sighed, finally finding her voice.

“What kind of mother abandons her daughters and leaves them defenseless?” Jenny asked.

“One who was trying to protect her children,” Grace replied. “She thought she could keep you from your fate.” 

Jenny opened her mouth to respond but the chiming of the grandfather clock resumed, loud and insistent.

“Our time here has ended,” Grace said as she moved towards the front door and placed her hand on the frame. The portal appeared again but this time led to the woods that surrounded Sleepy Hollow. 

“The spell to unbind your powers is written on the back of the parchment torn from my Book of Shadows. Find it, and your mother can restore your magic,” Grace said to Jenny before turning towards Abbie. “Mr. Crane’s arrogance and pride has put him in a bind. Upon your return to Sleepy Hollow you must dig deep to sever the roots of fear and doubt that lay between you. Have faith in your bond. At its foundation lies the strongest weapon the world has ever known.”

Grace nudged the sisters forward and, with one final glance back, they stepped through the portal and back to Sleepy Hollow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've used actual historical events as the inspiration for this story! Check out the links below for more information.
> 
> Want to learn more about African Americans during the Revolutionary War? Check out this article on George Washington's runaway slave: http://www.pbs.org/wnet/african-americans-many-rivers-to-cross/history/george-washingtons-runaway-slave-harry/
> 
> What list was being assembled at the Fraunces Tavern? It's a real historical document, and you can learn more here: http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/aia/part2/2h58.html
> 
> What happened to the Black loyalists that left America with the British at the end of the war? Read more here: http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2006/05/08/goodbye-columbus


	5. Lost and Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I've really enjoyed getting back into writing and spending time with these characters during this horrendous hiatus.

The ground squished beneath Abbie’s boots as she took her first tentative steps in the woods surrounding Sleepy Hollow. It rained a few days before she and Crane had set out for Purgatory, but the thick canopy above her prevented the sunlight from drying the earth beneath her feet. “I’ve never been more excited to get mud on my shoes until now,” she said to Jenny, fully expecting her sister to utter a snide remark about her neat freak tendencies.

It never came.

Abbie whirled around, looking for Jenny, only to find that she was alone in the woods. “Jenny!” she screamed, desperately hoping she’d spot her by a tree. 

Grace said that Jenny would be coming back, that it wasn’t her time to die.

“Please don’t take her from me too,” Abbie prayed to a God she hoped was listening.

In her wild search for Jenny she’d managed to wander back to her car. Chatter on the SHPD radio could be heard through the cracked windows. Some campers heard gunshots near Abbie’s current location. Dispatch was requesting the nearest officer check out the scene. She yanked the driver’s side door open just as Luke’s voice reported that he was in the area and would check out the report.

The tears in her eyes blurred Abbie’s vision as she fumbled for her keys, absently registering the make and model of the overturned truck. Luke continued to report the details of the scene, and Abbie felt her heart stop. A woman matching Jenny’s description was seriously injured, and needed immediate medical attention.

Suddenly the world was moving too fast, or she was moving too slow. She finally managed to stick her key in the ignition and sped off towards the scene of the accident. 

****************************************************************************************************************************************************

A small gathering of onlookers had gathered near the police barricade. Abbie barely came to a stop before she put her Jeep in park and hopped out of the vehicle. A quick flash of her badge cleared most of the voyeurs from her path. She shoved the rest aside, ignoring their loud objections as she ducked under the police tape and made her way over to Jenny’s truck. She had just spotted the flashing lights of an ambulance when two large hands grabbed her shoulders and spun her around.

“Jesus Abbie, I’ve been trying to reach you.” Luke said, his voice full of concern.

Abbie caught the quirk of his eyebrows as he spotted the mud on her boots and noted her disheveled appearance. 

“Jenny...I heard...on the radio—” Abbie began.

“She’s fine,” Luke interrupted. “It took her about five minutes to call me an asshole, so she’s a little banged up. I’m sure she’ll be back to her two minute limit in no time,” Luke said loudly as he nodded to a group of passing fireman.

Abbie didn’t have time for this. She needed to find Jenny. “Luke, which hospital are they taking her to?”

“Westchester Medical. It was touch and go for a while there...she was out cold with a really nasty head wound,” he said, pulling Abbie over to the side of the road. He glanced around to make sure no one was listening before continuing in a whisper. “When I pulled her out of the truck she woke up and started screaming for you. She said you were stuck in Purgatory and that you had to get to Crane...I barely got her to shut up before the paramedics arrived...”

Abbie rolled her eyes and prepared herself for what was sure to be his next question.

“...I thought you were supposed to be monitoring her...is she off her medication?”

A flash of heat surged through Abbie’s body. She was about to issue a biting reply when she remembered Grace’s final message. “Crane...what did Jenny say about Crane? ” 

“What?” Luke said, shaking his head in confusion. “Look, there’s a lot of weird shit going on around here, Abbie, and it all started when your English ‘friend’ showed up.”

Abbie drew herself to her full height and made direct eye contact with Luke. “What. Did. Jenny. Say?”

“I don’t know,” Luke stuttered, “it was all crazy talk. Something about white trees and Crane buried alive. She said some woman named Grace showed her as she left Purgatory.”

Abbie turned and ran back to her car. She opened the trunk and grabbed the spare shovel she kept with her emergency supplies. Heavy footsteps behind her announced Luke’s arrival.

“Abbie, what the hell is going on?” Luke asked, “are you in some sort of trouble? Is someone after you?”

“You can say that,” Abbie responded wryly as she shut the trunk.

“Let me help you.”

Abbie stopped momentarily and took a long look at Luke. He was a good man, the settle down and get married type. Three kids, a dog, and a white picket fence were his dream. He’d told her so as he held her close in his bed one lazy Sunday morning. 

Abbie froze. In her experience marriages failed and parents abandoned their children. She couldn’t be the woman he was looking for, so she applied to FBI. It was her way of setting him free. 

Luke called her out on her bullshit, sparking the awkwardness between them. Crane’s arrival and her increasingly complicated relationship with him fanned the flames.

They would never get back together. She knew that now. But Luke was her friend once, and Abbie realized she would need all the friends she could get in order to win this war. “Grab the shovel out of the trunk of your car,” she said, “and meet me back here. Hurry.” 

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************

Four white trees stood before them.

“What is this place?” Luke gasped beside her. The uncertainty in his voice made both of them wonder if the question was truly meant for Abbie.

On the short ride over he’d peppered her with questions about the unexplained cases Irving had assigned her to, Crane’s appointment as a “Consultant” to the force, and Jenny’s recent rantings. But he visibly paled and went silent when Abbie started talking about the secret war between good and evil in Sleepy Hollow. 

“This is where my nightmares started.” she said, clutching the shovel in her hand while struggling to breathe.

This place had haunted her dreams for thirteen years, ripping her from sleep with a raw throat and drenched in sweat. Luke belonged to a small group of people who had heard her screaming in the night, which had grown to include Jenny and, more recently, Crane.

She pushed the fear bubbling inside of her down as she scanned the area. A patch of disturbed earth grabbed her attention. She hurried over, and began to dig. Luke fell in line beside her, attacking the ground with military precision. 

Hours later, the plain pine box that had once been Jeremy’s prison became visible. Ichabod’s screams pierced the air as they struggled to remove the last layers of dirt from the coffin. Luke used his pocket knife to cut through the vines binding Crane’s arms and legs and helped him crawl out of the shallow grave. 

Abbie fell to the ground, covered in dirt and sweat, but too exhausted and elated to care. She had just started to offer a silent prayer of thanks when two large arms wrapped around her and pulled her into an embrace.

Ichabod held her close, great sobs wracking his body as he whispered words of apology and gratitude to her. Abbie rested her head against his chest and before Luke, God, and the four white trees, finally allowed herself to cry.

She wept for her lost childhood, her neglectful parents, and her abandonment. She cried for her reckless teenaged years, when she desperately hoped that someone, anyone would save her from herself. She wept for Sheriff Corbin and wished she could’ve had one last conversation with her mentor.

Ichabod’s grip tightened, and he vowed to never betray her trust again. Abbie was still angry with him, but felt her heart shift from the sadness of her past as her mind wandered to the present. She’d found her way back to Jenny, and while their relationship wasn't perfect, she was happy to have her acerbic and slightly unhinged sister back in her life.

Crane’s presence, while initially jarring made her look at every aspect of modern life through new eyes. She felt at home in his arms, and started to feel like together, they could win this war.


	6. Chapter 6: Balance

Jenny sat on the bed and stared at the clock on the wall. The paramedics had brought her to the hospital hours ago, and she was ready to go home. She guessed that meant heading back to Abbie’s place since her truck was totaled.

A full thirty seconds went by before she stood up and started pacing again. The doctor was insisting that she rest, explaining in patient, dull tones that her injury was serious. It was a minor miracle that she’d never had a concussion before, given her line of “work”, but she felt fine.

“That’s the danger of head trauma, Miss Mills,” Dr. Koh said while scribbling undecipherable notes in Jenny’s chart. “Sometimes patients feel fine even when the brain has suffered a traumatic injury. Once your sister gets here I’ll explain to her that it’s in your best interest to stay overnight for observation.”

“I can make my own decisions.” Jenny growled through her teeth. She was tired of being treated like a toddler, and this room reminded her of old cell at Tarrytown Psychiatric. The cleaning staff even used the same disinfectant.

“These documents say otherwise,” Dr. Koh said, waving a thick folder which surely contained Jenny’s past psych evals and the court order granting Abbie conservatorship over her.

“Look,” the doctor continued, “we have to make sure that you haven’t been seriously injured, and your sister’s a cop. I doubt she’ll allow you to leave the hospital after the trauma you’ve suffered. So sit back and relax. The sooner we get through the night, the sooner you can get out of here.” Dr. Koh finished her notes and grabbed Jenny’s bagged clothing as she left the room.

Jenny followed her to the door and watched as the doctor dropped her clothing off at the observation station. She’d been a frequent guest of Westchester Medical Center over the years, and was familiar with most of the staff. Nurse Harper, warden of the night shift, was a particular thorn in her side during her last visit. She caught Jenny’s eyes watching her as she shoved the bag into the deepest cabinet behind the desk and shut it with a definitive snap. She locked the drawer and made sure Jenny saw her place the key in the breast pocket of her navy blue scrubs, smiling with a false politeness that was clearly meant as a threat.

Jenny leaned against the doorframe and smirked as she monitored Nurse Harper’s movements. “Amateurs,” she muttered to herself and rolled her eyes. She wasn’t above escaping in nothing but the thin hospital gown on her back, but her favorite hoodie was in that bag, and Harper had just issued a challenge. 

“You have greater worries than fooling with that woman.” a voice said from behind her. She turned to find Grace standing by the window.

“Oh really...and what would they be?” Jenny deadpanned as she resumed her watch of the nurse’s station. She didn’t want to think about the memories she’d regained in Purgatory or the look of pity she saw in Luke’s eyes while she was screaming for Abbie. 

“Despite your show of indifference, Jennifer, I know there are questions you want answered.” Grace said as she settled herself into the overstuffed chair beside the hospital bed. She conjured an embroidery hoop out of the air with a complicated flick of her wrist, before continuing, “I thought we could talk while we wait for Abigail to arrive.”

“You can’t be serious,” Jenny hissed, “if someone comes in here and sees me talking to an empty chair I’ll get a one way ticket back to the psych ward, and I am never going back there.”

She returned to the bed and turned on the tv, hoping the noise would cover her conversation with Grace. “And thank you for telling me that Abbie and I would be separated when we returned from Purgatory. You could have kept me from embarrassing myself.”

Grace stopped her needlework, laying it in her lap before her gaze shifted back to Jenny and lingered. “You are not your mother.” 

Jenny toyed with the frayed edges of her hospital gown and swallowed the lump in her throat she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She couldn’t stop the flow of images that were tucked away in the deepest corners of her mind, accessed so infrequently that they’d decayed to brief flashes of sight, sound and emotions - of being held tightly to a woman’s chest as she swayed to the music in church, the same woman braiding her hair before school, applying a gentle kiss to her forehead while “I love you” was whispered in her ear.

“What I wish to say,” Grace continued, leaning forward to catch Jenny’s eyes, “is that you are so much stronger, and she loved you and your sister more than you know." 

“Get out.”

“Jennifer—”

“What kind of mother abandons her children? Leaves them alone to face a monster she knew was coming for them?” 

“Evil has made you its vessel on multiple occasions, whispering unforgivable thoughts in your ear and yet you have defeated it every time. Haven’t you ever wondered why Moloch and his forces are so determined to possess your soul?” Grace said.

Jenny looked away. She’d been at the lowest point in her life the last time Ancitif had possessed her, aged out of the foster care system and drifting from place to place, struggling to survive on her own. Corbin exorcised the demon and took her in, trained her and involved her in his investigation into Sleepy Hollow’s mysterious past.

She felt Grace’s hand on her cheek, gently turning her head so they were face to face.

“Jennifer,” Grace said, “you are a witch. Blessed with God’s grace. Moloch and his forces seek to usurp your abilities by any means necessary in order to tilt the balance of power in their favor.”

“Balance?” the question fell out of Jenny’s mouth before she could stop herself.

“In nature there exist many dualities, male and female, the sun and the moon, life and death. Witches draw their power from the elements, and must use them in the service of good or evil.”

“So I have to decide whether I’m a white witch or into dark magic?” Jenny scoffed.

“There is no inherent goodness in the light nor evil in darkness. They are simply two halves of a whole. What matters is the intent with which magic is performed, to help, or to harm,” Grace said.

“Jenny?” Abbie’s voice called from the door, interrupting the conversation.

Jenny turned to find Abbie hovering in the doorway, dirt streaked across her face and dried mud covering her boots. Her slumped shoulders and tentative tone unnerved Jenny but, after a brief nod to Grace, Abbie rushed over to the bed and pulled her into a tight hug, her grip increasing with each repeated whisper of “thank God.”

Jenny surprised herself with how tightly she clung to Abbie, but was soon gasping for breath. “I can’t breathe,” she said with a small laugh, relieved when she saw some of the light return to Abbie’s eyes. 

“Are you ok?” they each asked each other in unison.

“Where’s Crane?” Jenny asked. It was odd to see Abbie without her constant companion. “Did you tell him about his wife?” Jenny couldn’t help the sarcasm that crept into her tone, and made no attempt to reign it in.

“He’s in the waiting room, they said ‘family only’ after visiting hours.” Abbie replied. She hesitated before continuing, “I’ll tell him when I take him home.”

“You’re not leaving without me,” Jenny said. “I want to get out of here.”

“The doctor said she wanted to keep you for observation,” Abbie said, “she’ll be here in a few minutes to review your CT scans.”

“Abbie, I’m fine,” Jenny said, looking to Grace for help.

Grace nodded. “Your sister will make a full recovery. I was sent to help guide her on her journey to regain her powers.”

Abbie looked between Grace and Jenny. “What were you telling her when I walked in?” she asked, launching into full interrogation mode.

Jenny rolled her eyes, annoyed that Abbie had changed the subject but Grace merely smiled and gestured towards the empty spot on the bed next to Jenny, indicating that Abbie should sit down.

“We were discussing the delicate balance between the elements before you joined us,” Grace said as she resumed her needlework.

“Why was Katrina with Moloch in the woods that day?” Abbie asked.

Jenny leaned forward and waited for Grace to answer, despite her irritation with Abbie for taking over the conversation.

“Katrina Crane was once a good witch who turned her back on her vows to use her powers to help others,” Grace said. “She succumbed to Moloch’s temptations and helped disrupt the balance between good and evil.”

“How?” Jenny asked. 

“She concealed the location of Mr. Crane’s grave, allowing time for evil, already rampant in an era of enslavement and war, to grow. If Moloch gained access to your powers, Jennifer, the scale would be decidedly tipped in his favor. Your sister and her fellow Witness would be powerless to stop the apocalypse. They need you in order to win this war.”

Grace’s insistence that Abbie would need her intrigued Jenny. She’d been lost and alone for far too long, but restoring her magic meant visiting her mother, a woman Jenny hadn’t seen since she was a child. “Why can’t you just break the spell?” Jenny asked, “it’s your spellbook. Don’t you have it memorized?”

“The spell is bound with a mother’s love for her child,” Grace said, “ancient magic that can only be undone by her death or by willfully freeing you from her protection using the manumission spell missing from my Book of Shadows.

“It’s ok to be afraid,” Abbie said, reaching towards Jenny’s hand. “It’s been years since I last saw her too.”

Jenny jerked her hand away and jumped off the bed. She stalked over to the window and looked outside. “I’m not afraid,” she said, struggling to believe her own lie.

Abbie followed Jenny to the window and stood just behind her. “You don’t have to do this alone. I’m here with you now, and I’m never leaving you again.”

Jenny exhaled and turned to look at Abbie. “I’ll go if you come with me.”

Abbie smiled and pulled Jenny into a hug. The moment was broken when Dr. Koh returned, announcing her arrival with a knock on the door.

Jenny glanced at the overstuffed chair but Grace had vanished. She hadn’t actually told them how to find the missing pages of her spellbook, but Jenny assumed she would see her again.

“Lieutenant Mills,” Dr. Koh said, “I have your sister’s scans and lab results. We can go over them before we get her admitted to the hospital for the night.”

“She’s not staying here,” Abbie said. “She’s coming home with me.”


	7. We Need to Talk

The short ride home from the hospital was silent. All three occupants of the vehicle were lost in their own thoughts. Ichabod stared out the window, covered in dirt and slumped at an odd angle in his seat.

Jenny pretended not to notice Abbie glancing at her and Crane through the rear-view mirror, presumably watching for signs of distress from either passenger, but more likely ensuring that Jenny didn’t start a fight in the car. Abbie made her promise that she’d leave Crane alone as a condition of her release from the hospital, and the best way to honor that agreement was to say nothing at all.

Unfortunately, Jenny didn’t have much experience holding her tongue, so her silence did nothing but exacerbate her feelings. She was angry with Crane. His recklessness and blind devotion to his wife led them to their current situation. She hated herself for not protesting his ill-formed plan harder, and furious that the mere thought of visiting her mother caused her so much fear.

She jumped out of the car as soon as Abbie pulled into the driveway and rushed to her room, throwing herself down on her bed. She heard Abbie and Ichabod come inside a few moments later, and listened to their conversation through her open bedroom door.

Abbie was insisting that Ichabod use her bathroom to shower first, presumably shoving the overnight duffle he kept in her car into his hands. 

The “Thank you, Miss Mills,” he mumbled were the first words Jenny heard him speak since she watched him leave the archives with Abbie and Parrish at the start of this ill-fated mission. 

Jenny got up to check on Abbie as soon as she heard Crane start his shower.

She found her sister busying herself in the living room, neatly stacking pillows from the sofa in a corner before pulling out the bed contained within. It was a new addition to the house, purchased for nights like this, when Abbie was too exhausted to drive out to the cabin. Jenny would often offer to drive Ichabod home on such nights, but both Witnesses would politely refuse. She knew what they were unwilling or unable to say—that their physical proximity to each other was a source of comfort while the world fell apart—but kept these thoughts to herself...for now. 

“Did you tell him?” Jenny said as she moved to help her sister put a fitted sheet on the sofa bed.

“Tell him what?” Abbie asked, smoothing the same corner section of the sheet over and over again, not meeting her sister’s eyes.

Jenny dipped down to Abbie’s eye level, a move she normally reserved to irritate her older sister, and studied her closely. She saw the same look that must have been plastered on her own face just a few minutes before, a strange mixture of anger and fear.

“You know what,” Jenny hissed, “that his wife is working with Moloch, or she tried to kill us as kids...take your pick!”

Abbie closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead with both hands but otherwise made no attempt to respond as she sat on the edge of the bed.

Jenny decided they could all use a drink, and headed to the kitchen to grab three mugs and the bottle of rum Abbie kept stashed for Crane. She walked back into the living room and found Abbie in the same spot where she left her. It was hard to believe that just an hour ago, Abbie was the one reassuring her that everything would be alright. She didn’t expect to have to repay the favor so soon, but if they were ever going to have a chance at winning this war, they’d have to learn how to recover from their losses. She sat next to Abbie, knowing she’d have to proceed with caution.

“Look,” Jenny said as she placed the mugs on the coffee table in front of them, “you told me you wanted answers, so we followed Crane’s stupid plan and you walked into Purgatory. We learned the truth about mom, our family, and what happened to us that day in the woods.” She poured three drinks, downing hers first before she continued, “The answers we found, the secrets we uncovered, are ugly and scary, but you can’t run away and pretend nothing happened. Not this time.”

“I thought we moved past that,” Abbie started.

“We have,” Jenny cut her off as she poured herself another drink, “or at least we’re getting further away.” She toyed with the mug in her hands and waited for Abbie to say or do something, anything besides stare at the floor.

“He was broken when we found him,” Abbie whispered, “he lost everything—”

“Yeah? Well, so have we.” Jenny said before she threw back her drink in a single gulp, then slammed the empty mug on the coffee table. Crane must have finished his shower, because the water stopped running and she could hear him moving around in Abbie’s room.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Jenny,” Abbie said, the heat returning to her voice. “I’m just as angry as you are. This mission was built on a lie. He re-drew that map, didn’t tell me, and look where it got us.” she said as she flung her arms out, indicating the empty space in front of her. “We’re supposed to be partners in this...how am I supposed to trust him again?”

Jenny stood and picked up her empty mug. She started to head towards the kitchen, but turned back to Abbie just before she stepped out of the living room. “You’ve always told him the truth, no matter how painful it may be. Start there. The rest will fall into place.”

She left Abbie in the living room, put her empty mug in the dishwasher and walked back to her room, passing Crane in the hallway. Her curt nod of acknowledgement was the only pleasantry she could muster at the moment. All she wanted was a hot shower and sleep. She didn’t want to think about the memories she regained in Purgatory, or how hopeless she felt about the mission laid in front of her. She started to close her bedroom door, but not before she heard Abbie’s voice, clear and strong, as she spoke to Crane:

“Ichabod, we need to talk…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not beta'd. All mistakes are mine.
> 
> How's the pace of this story? Is it moving too slow? I wanted to be done by the time season 2 started, but the characters had other ideas. Oh well. The next chapter should have more action. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	8. An Offer and a Warning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the major delay. There several false starts and a few wrong turns with this chapter, but I'm finally back on track! I WILL finish this story. Additional notes are posted below.

Abbie coughed as a cloud of dust filled the air. It probably wasn’t a good idea to handle ancient scrolls and rotting books so roughly, but it felt good to slam them against the table. She felt like she was accomplishing something.

They hadn’t made much progress locating Grace’s spell since returning from Purgatory three weeks ago. Abbie wanted to question Grace for clues but hadn’t seen her ancestor since the night she brought Jenny home from the hospital. 

“Are you ill, Lieutenant?” Ichabod asked from behind her laptop. 

Abbie caught his eyes roaming her form, checking for any signs of distress.

“I’m fine, Crane,” Abbie responded, as she used her fingertips to massage the ache in her temple. 

They’d spent the last three weeks like this, trapped in a holding pattern. Each Witness nursing wounds that had been ripped raw and would never completely heal.

At times, Abbie regretted telling Crane the truth about Katrina. Their conversation went as well as it could—she made allegations against his wife with the memories of a child and he renounced her accusations with his typical dramatic flair, appalled at the suggestion Katrina was anything but the beloved wife he’d perfectly preserved in his memory.

Depression kicked in two weeks ago, after Jenny, listed all of Katrina's half-truths, lies of omission, and general transgressions. Abbie thought Jenny’s outburst was harsh, and told her sister so.

“We’re trying to prevent the apocalypse, Abbie. We don’t have time to wait for Crane to complete the stages of grief,” Jenny said before she stormed out of the archives. That was two weeks ago, and she’d rarely been seen since.

“Lieutenant…”

Abbie turned towards the sound of Crane’s voice—and bumped into his chest. They quickly separated, and Abbie wondered how he’d managed to cross the room unnoticed before an awkward silence fell between them.

“Lieutenant, I—” 

“Shoot, Crane—”

They spoke in unison. Ichabod blinked rapidly. His brow furrowed as he tilted his head to the side and mouthed the word “shoot” before returning to his aristocratic posture.

“Another modern colloquialism I presume,” he sighed.

“It means ‘go ahead’ as in, ‘tell me what you were going to say’,” Abbie said as she leaned against the table. 

“Lieutenant, I believe your apple-book has provided a clue to the whereabouts of Grace’s spell.”

Abbie smiled. It wasn’t the rant on modern language she was expecting, but she’d take his gaffe on laptops. “Show me,” she said as they walked over to her macbook on the table.

“After the war, a delegation of American and British officials convened at Fraunces Tavern, just as Grace informed you and Miss Jenny in Purgatory,” Ichabod said. “They compiled a list of former slaves who could prove their service to The Crown during the war. Only these individuals and their family members would be permitted to leave America with the British, heading for Nova Scotia, England, and the Caribbean.”

“Hmm..” Abbie murmured as she read the text on the screen. “But is there anything here that tells us if this list survived, and how to find the damn thing?”

Ichabod smiled, and Abbie saw a flash of his former self.

“Fortune smiles upon us, Lieutenant, for both copies have survived the centuries.”

“It’s about time fortune did something for us. Where are they located?”

“A scholar, by the name of Wikipedia, has professed the American copy is housed at the National Archives in our nation’s new capitol, Washington, DC, and the British copy is located in Surrey, just outside of London.” 

Abbie sighed and shook her head. “We don’t have time to travel to both locations.”

Ichabod cleared his throat. “Perhaps Miss Jenny might be of assistance?” 

He and Jenny were still on shaky ground since she stormed out of the archives. They communicated through Abbie, mostly in a one way direction—from Crane to Jenny—as she spent most of her time away from the Witnesses.

She would leave before dawn and return late in the evening, hair frazzled and attitude shot, offering only a perfunctory grunt before heading to her room and shutting the door.

Abbie nodded. “Maybe she can put her friends in low places to work for us,” she said as she pulled out her phone to text her sister.

Jenny’s reply arrived a few seconds later: “On it.”

Short and direct. Abbie exhaled and rolled her eyes before she placed her phone on the table. She caught Ichabod watching her. He was just as concerned about Jenny’s recent behavior as she was.

“Did Miss Jenny provide any details concerning her whereabouts?” he asked.

“No,” Abbie said. She didn’t know what to make of her sister's latest antics. Before Purgatory, Abbie would have said they were finally making progress in their relationship. Now, she wasn’t so sure. “I’ll check in with Luke,” she said as she picked up her phone. “Maybe he’s seen her around.”

Luke had offered to monitor Jenny’s movements through his small network of informants, but the updates, including his latest message, were always the same—'Jenny was spotted arriving or departing from Adam’s Antiquities. No further information could be obtained'.

Abbie rolled her eyes and made a mental note to tell Luke to lean on his network a little harder. Her sister was a highly skilled criminal, and would know when she was being followed. 

“Lieutenant,” Ichabod started, interrupting Abbie’s thoughts. “I believe we have reached our physical limitations for the day. Perhaps we should retire from our search for the evening and return to our mission after we acquire a modicum of rest.”

The ache in Abbie’s temple throbbed, and she couldn’t go for more than a few minutes without stifling a yawn. “You’re right, Crane. Let’s call it a night.”

********************************************************************************************************************************************************

They decided to stay at Abbie’s place, since she was too tired to drive to the cabin. Ichabod busied himself with the sofa-bed, while Abbie alternated between checking her phone and glancing out of the windows, looking for Jenny.

“She will return, Lieutenant,” Ichabod said as he moved to join Abbie at the window, stopping just behind her.

“Sometimes, I’m not so sure.”

“Miss Jenny considers you her home,” he said. “She will always return to you, no matter what evil strives to sever your bond. Of that, I’m sure.”

Abbie turned and looked at Crane. She’d missed the easy nature of their relationship over the past three weeks. He’d always known the exact words that would make her feel better, that would put her back on track.

A strange expression passed over his face. He was harder to read these days—his mood generally alternated between melancholy and deep depression—but Abbie recognized his hesitation.

“What is it?” she asked.

“There was some distressing information in Wikipedia’s research,” he said. “After the war, Franklin and John Adams attended peace negotiations in Paris. On the last day, an article was added to the treaty requiring all property seized by the British be returned to their American owners...Lieutenant, this included slaves...It goes on to say General Washington contracted an army officer to hunt down his former slaves who escaped their bondage and fled to the British lines seeking their own freedom."

"You knew Washington owned slaves," Abbie said.

Ichabod's gaze fell to the floor. "It was my deepest desire that he would see the irony of holding human beings as property while we were fighting for the ideals of liberty and freedom....apparently, that did not come to pass. Miss Mills, I find this difficult to reconcile."

"It’s 2014, and America still hasn't fully digested or discussed the ramifications of slavery," Abbie said. The pain in her temple throbbed, and there was still no sign of Jenny. “Get some rest. We'll talk about it tomorrow.”

“Good night, Miss Mills,” he said with a slight bow.

“Night, Crane,” Abbie said as she walked back to her bedroom, passing Jenny’s on her way. The door was cracked. Abbie pushed it aside, looked around the empty room, and sighed. The bed was made with military precision. If it weren’t for the slight misalignment of her boots by the foot of the bed, Abbie would have thought Jenny had never made it home last night.

Abbie shut Jenny’s bedroom door and continued down the hall to her own room, heading straight for her bathroom. She stifled a yawn as she turned on the light and stood in front of her mirror, studying her reflection. Bags were starting to form under her eyes. “You need to take better care of yourself, Mills,” she chuckled to herself as she reached for her toothbrush, knocking the container of toothpaste off the counter in the process. “Damn it!”

Her hands balled into fists as she closed her eyes and bowed her head. She paused for a moment before she leaned over and picked up her toothpaste. She stood back up, and glanced in the mirror.

Katrina Crane smiled back at her.

“Ichabod!” Abbie screamed, trying to back out of the bathroom but was instead pulled forward, into the mirror. Its surface rippled as she crossed the plane and a rush of cool water washed over her.

The sensation ended as abruptly as it began, and Abbie’s eyes widened as she surveyed her new surroundings. 

She was standing in the center of Trinity Church. Moonlight illuminated the stained glass windows and rows of candles lined both sides of the sanctuary, casting the chapel in a soft glow. “No...no, not again,” she whispered as her pulse raced and her throat started to close.

“Hello, Miss Mills,” Katrina greeted from behind.

Abbie turned to face her. “What is this place?” she asked as she scanned the church for an exit. 

“Fear not, Miss Mills, I mean you no harm.This is not Purgatory."

Abbie stopped searching for an escape route and looked into Katrina’s eyes. “You tried to trap me in Purgatory in this very church, remember?”

“I thought you’d be more comfortable for our little chat in familiar surroundings,” Katrina said with a smile that did not reach her eyes. She sat in a pew and motioned for Abbie to join her.

Abbie chuckled, but stayed rooted to her spot. “So...Abraham’s not much of a conversationalist? You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t feel like chatting at the moment.”

Katrina’s grin widened, and Abbie felt a chill in the air.

“You don’t have to talk, Miss Mills. You simply have to listen.”

“And why would I believe anything you have to say?” Abbie asked as she shook her head. "You've done nothing but lie, to your coven, to Crane—"

“And how is my husband?” Katrina interrupted. “Did he believe the fallacies you undoubtedly told him upon your return from Purgatory?”

Abbie felt her heart stop. Her re-integrated memories from ‘that day’ in the woods were still raw, and the fear associated with them threatened to crack her carefully construed exterior. She swallowed the lump in her throat, leaned towards Katrina, and stared directly into her pale, green eyes. “What do you want?“ she demanded. “Why have you brought me here?”

“Merely to provide you with an offer, or a warning. The choice is yours."

"I don't want whatever you and Moloch are selling Katrina, so just get to the warning."

“You must make a choice,” Katrina insisted. “Therefore, you will listen to the options I will lay before you.”

"My answer will be the same—"

"What is your deepest desire, Miss Mills? A happy childhood? A home, filled with your loved ones, all of them safe and whole? Join us, and you shall have this and more."

Abbie's chest tightened and the lump in her throat returned. Katrina was methodically picking through all of her psychological defenses. She needed to gain control of the situation. “You sold your soul and turned your back on your vows to use your powers for the greater good. Why?”

Katrina’s smile vanished, and the temperature in the church plummeted. "The world does not exist in simple terms of black and white, Miss Mills. There is significant area among the grey. The things we do for love often defy logic."

"What did Moloch promise you?”

Katrina paused, but quickly recovered. "The grace you possess is a gift from God. Its magic has untold powers. Join us, and I will teach you how to access and harness your true talents."

"My answer is still no."

"Then I will offer you this warning. Your quest to unbind your sister’s magic will end in misery and despair. You will bear witness to her death as Moloch’s forces wash over the Earth. The grace within her shall be mine, and you will spend eternity re-living the moment Jennifer Mills met her end. Consider the options before you carefully, Miss Mills. You have 24 hours to decide."

Abbie opened her mouth to respond, but was thrown backwards before she could speak. Her view of the church diminished, and a wave of cold water rushed over her. She could hear Ichabod screaming for help and footsteps running down the hall as the back of her head hit the bathroom floor, plunging her into darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was the most difficult to write. Making Ichabod sound like Ichabod was difficult, but determining Katrina's motivations was almost impossible. I couldn't write that last scene until I knew where she was coming from (to be revealed over the next few chapters). 
> 
> Two additional notes:
> 
> 1\. The tavern where the Americans and the British met to assemble the Book of Negroes was actually called Fraunces Tavern, after its proprietor. I had it as the Queen's Head Tavern in chapter 4. This has been corrected. You can learn more about the tavern here: http://frauncestavernmuseum.org/history-and-education/history-of-fraunces-tavern/
> 
> 2\. The Nova Scotia Archives has digitized the British copy of the Book of Negroes (Black Loyalists). You can view it online here: http://novascotia.ca/archives/virtual/africanns/BN.asp


	9. A Living Witch

"Who does she think she is," Jenny grumbled as she pulled into Abbie's driveway. "This isn't fucking Hogwarts."

Her truck sputtered to a stop and a heavy sigh escaped her lips as she pulled the key from the ignition. She leaned back and took a moment to study her reflection in the rear-view mirror. Her hair was a tangled mess, she reeked of smoke, and something foul had permanently attached itself to her vest.

Grace had appeared to Jenny shortly after her argument with Ichabod. She was sitting in her truck, just after she’d stormed out of the archives. She was just about to go and apologize for her outburst when she heard a voice and felt her ancestor’s presence.

“The Witnesses could use your help in there.” 

Grace shifted in the passenger seat towards Jenny. “The Witnesses are bound by fate. They will resolve their issues in due time. I am here for you. Your powers are still bound, but we must begin your magical training. Moloch will seek to bring about the apocalypse by any means necessary, so we must be ready. We'll start small, with a few protection spells, and you must familiarize yourself with the medicinal herbs of the ancestors." 

That was two weeks ago, and to her surprise, Jenny found that she enjoyed spending time with the old witch. It was almost like having a grandmother, or what she supposed having a grandmother felt like. “Don’t go there. Not tonight,” Jenny said.

She glanced at the house. The lights were out. She hoped this meant Abbie and Crane were at the cabin or were asleep. Abbie hadn’t pressed her for information on her whereabouts just yet, but Jenny was sure it was coming, and she didn’t want to fight tonight.

“Just a few more minutes, and then I can get to bed,” Jenny said as she grabbed her bag off the passenger seat and slid out of the truck. Her feet felt heavy as she dragged herself up the front steps and unlocked the front door.

Ichabod's scream and the sound of shattering glass hit her ears as soon as she crossed the threshold. Jenny dropped her bag and ran down the hallway, towards Abbie's room.

She found Ichabod crouched over her sister's body. Abbie was sprawled across the bathroom floor, unmoving. A small puddle of blood pooled behind her head.

"No no no..." Ichabod babbled as he cradled Abbie's small frame.

"Call 911!" Jenny screamed.

Ichabod ran down the hall, and Jenny heard him speaking to the dispatcher a few moments later. She checked Abbie's wound, and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it was superficial.

"Abbie," Jenny called as she gently rolled her sister onto her side and placed her in the recovery position.

"The medics are on their way," Ichabod said, returning to Abbie's side.

"My bag...I dropped it by the front door. Go get it...hurry!"

Ichabod left without a word, and returned a few seconds later.

"I keep a small stash of emergency supplies with me on the road," Jenny said as she rummaged through her bag. She pulled some gauze from her first aid kit and doused it with the herbal solution she’d made that day before gently applying it to Abbie’s wound.

"Ugh" Abbie moaned as she regained consciousness. Her eyes opened wide and she tried to sit up, wincing at the sudden movement before grabbing her head in pain.

Jenny placed a hand on Abbie’s shoulder to restrict her movement.

"What happened?" Ichabod asked.

Abbie looked from Jenny to Ichabod. "Katrina. She pulled me into a vision...said we shouldn't unbind Jenny's powers."

"What else did she say?" Jenny asked.

"She wants your magic. The grace you possess,” Abbie said. “She said it was powerful magic, and I could either join Moloch or you’d die. I have 24 hours to decide."

"The devil’s dilemma," Jenny said.

Abbie and Ichabod blinked in confusion.

"It's a choice between two impossible options. Your greatest desire and your greatest fear are presented as an offer and a warning. Grace said something like this might happen. Here, let's get you to the couch. Help me get her up, Ichy."

Ichabod huffed, but immediately moved to help Jenny lift Abbie to her feet before she could refuse their assistance. They sat her on the couch just as the ambulance arrived.

******************************************************************************************************************************************************

“Are you listening, Miss? I said your sister should be observed for the next 24 hours.”

Jenny spared a glanced back at the medic. She didn’t know him, but she’d seen him around town. His badge said his name was Torres.

They were standing in the entryway, facing the living room, but Jenny was too preoccupied with the the scene before her to listen—Abbie seated on the edge of the sofa bed while Torres’ partner stood over her, tending to her wound. Ichabod was just behind him, monitoring his progress. He'd refused to leave Abbie’s side while she was being treated for her injuries.

“Yeah, I heard you,” Jenny said. “Watch Abbie for 24 hours. It’s kind of a popular number around here.”

"Head injuries are very dangerous. I need to make sure you understand.” 

His partner finished working on Abbie and came to join him at the door. They both nodded as they prepared to leave.

“Those are popular around here too,” Jenny muttered as she shut the door in his face. She turned and walked into the living room, where Ichabod was fussing over her sister.

Abbie was trying to stand, waving Crane away with her hand. "I'm fine, Crane, you don't have to do that."

"But Lieutenant, I really do think—"

Jenny hoped he'd distract her long enough so she could slip back to her room unnoticed. Her bedroom was just down the hall.

"So," Abbie said as she stood in the middle of the hallway, blocking Jenny 's escape route. "Are you going to tell me where you've been, or am I going to have to pull it out of you?"

Jenny rolled her eyes. She turned on her heel and walked back into the living room. "Why, whatever do you mean?"

"Jenny, don't play with me. Where have you been for the past two weeks?"

"Hasn't Luke told you? I went back to work at Adam's Antiquities." Jenny smirked.

Abbie tilted her head to the side and stared. Hard.

Fuck.

"You should really take it easy. You hit your head pretty hard," Jenny stalled.

"You have exactly two seconds to tell me where you've been. The truth, Jenny. Now."

Jenny's eyes shifted from Abbie to Ichabod. He stood just behind Abbie, with a look on his face that said he was curious to hear her answer.

"I've been with Grace," Jenny said. "She's teaching me magic."

Ichabod looked intrigued, while Abbie's brow furled in confusion. "What? I thought you couldn't do magic." She said.

"I can't," Jenny growled, "but tell that to her!”

“You've been in contact with her this whole time? And you haven't told us?"

"Abbie, I wasn't kidding when I said you have no idea what we're dealing with.”

"Miss Jenny raises a valid point," Ichabod said. "Our efforts thus far have been insufficient. We were outwitted and have suffered a loss. If we wish to win this war—"

"My point," Jenny interrupted, "is I didn't want to wait to start my training. We need to be prepared for anything that comes our way."

"How do you contact her?" Abbie asked. “I want to talk to her.”

"Why?" Jenny yelped. 

"I need to ask her about Katrina 's threat."

Ichabod cleared his throat. "You can summon her?"

Jenny threw Ichabod an icy stare before lifting her face towards the ceiling. "GRACE," she hollered.

A flash of light appeared in the center of the room. It burned brightly at its core before it vanished, leaving Grace standing in its spot.

"They had doors back in your time," Jenny said as she lowered her hands from shielding her eyes.

"Jennifer, what have I told you about making all of that noise?" Grace said as she turned towards Jenny.

Jenny rolled her eyes. "Look, the Witnesses wanted to speak with you. Katrina offered Abbie the devil's dilemma, just as you said—"

Grace turned and faced Abbie. "What were her terms? Her exact words?"

Abbie shook her head, and scrunched her brow. "Join Moloch, and Katrina will teach me how to use my powers...she said Moloch could give me memories of a happy childhood, with my family. She warned against unbinding Jenny’s powers, that I'll witness Jenny's death as Moloch’s forces ‘wash upon the earth.' She was just trying to scare me."

"Katrina 's threat must be taken seriously," Grace insisted. “To accept her offer is to sell your soul, and she may do with it as she sees fit.”

“Madam,” Ichabod said with a slight bow, “the Katrina you speak of is not the woman I know to be my wife. Please, tell me. What happened? What changed her after my death?”

“Your wife was consumed with grief after your death,” Grace said. “Jeremy’s birth only increased her sorrow. The spell she cast at the moment of your death prevented you from crossing over to the spiritual realm. She concealed the location your grave and disappeared from society. There were rumors of her lurking in the woods, attempting to develop a spell to retrieve your soul from death’s grasp. Powerful magic, which can only be used with the grace of God.”

“She sold her soul,” Jenny gasped.

“During the war my husband and I helped several of General Washington’s former slaves escape to freedom. A contractor was dispatched to find them, as Washington considered them little more than property to be retrieved.

“I suspect this contractor was an emissary of Moloch, who offered Katrina the spell she so desperately sought in exchange for the souls of Washington’s runaway slaves. But their souls were not hers to sell. Her eyes were not open and she believed the lies she wanted to hear.”

"How do I give my answer?" Abbie asked.

"Don't worry,” Jenny said. “Katrina will find you when it's time."

Loud buzzing interrupted the conversation. Jenny walked over to her bag and pulled out her phone. "Yeah," she answered, turning away from the group, but keeping one ear on their conversation.

“The manumission spell from my journal. Has it been located?"

“We have been...unsuccessful in our attempts to obtain its precise location,” Ichabod said.

“We’ve narrowed the possible places it could be to two national archives, but we could really use your help,” Abbie said. “I thought the doorway to Purgatory was closed. How can Moloch’s army come to Earth?”

“When I rescued you from Purgatory, I was not able to completely close the doorway between Earth and the spiritual realm. A living witch must complete the spell from Earth to seal the passageway.”

The group turned towards Jenny.

"We're in luck," Jenny said as she ended her call. "I know where we have to go."

"Where are we headed, London or DC?" Abbie asked.

"My contact in London said the spell isn't written on the British copy.”

“So, DC then.”

“Try a little closer to home. The American version is out on loan to the New York Historical Society. It’s part of a special exhibit on slavery in New York.”

Jenny crossed her arms over her chest, quirked an eyebrow and smirked at Abbie before turning to face Ichabod, “Are you ready for your first subway ride, Itchy?"


	10. The Book of Negroes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's notes: listed at the end of the chapter

Grace left them in the early morning hours with instructions to contact her once the pages from her diary were recovered. 

Abbie ordered everyone to bed an hour ago, but Katrina’s threat and the task in front of them left her unable to rest. She got up to get something to help her sleep, and noticed the light on in Jenny’s room as she walked to the kitchen. She stopped in front of the door, and was just about to knock when-

“Abbie?”

Abbie rested her weight against the wall and nudged the door open, leaning forward to poke her head into Jenny’s room, while her feet remained in the hallway.

Jenny was sprawled across her bed, reading her iPad. 

“How’d you know it was me?” 

Jenny arched an eyebrow. “Please,” she said as she sat up and shifted over on her bed.

A moment passed, and they stared at each other. Jenny, perched on her bed and Abbie lingering by the door, just outside of Jenny’s room. Abbie’s eyes shifted to the empty space beside her sister before returning to look at Jenny again. Another moment passed, and she took a step, crossed the threshold, and sat beside her. 

"What are you doing up?"

“I was prepping for our case tomorrow. Time sort of slipped away.”

Abbie glanced at the iPad. Access codes and schematics of the New York Historical Society flashed across the screen before it deactivated. “Do I want to know how you acquired this information?”

“The less you know, the better, Lieutenant Mills,” Jenny said as she shoved the tablet under her pillow. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Abbie nodded. “Listen, I’m sorry about earlier, for interrogating you like that. For doubting you. I thought—”

“Thought I’d left? That’s more your style than mine, isn’t it?”

Abbie exhaled and put her head in her hands. "You disappeared for three weeks. I was worried.”

“Nice to know you care,” Jenny said, scooting back towards her pillow.

Maybe coming in here was a mistake. Abbie wanted to apologize for doubting her sister, but she seemed determined to start a fight. “Goodnight, Jenny,” she said, shifting her weight to stand.

“You and Crane, you have this bond, this connection. Sometimes I feel like I’m not even in the room when you two are together.”

Abbie stopped and turned to look at Jenny. She leaned forward and grabbed the extra pillow that had fallen to the floor. She tossed it towards the head of the bed and lay down next to her sister, both of them staring at the ceiling. 

"Do you remember the last Christmas we spent with Mama?" Abbie asked.

"Not really."

"It was the last time I thought she could change, that if she really worked hard, she could be normal," Abbie said.

Jenny went still beside her, but said nothing.

“She was in one of her good moods a few days before,” Abbie continued, “cooked dinner every night. We put up decorations and watched a few of those corny movies together, everything worked out for the kids in the story.”

“Abbie—”

“She even asked what we wanted Santa to bring us that year,” Abbie said as she shook her head. “Demons weren’t hiding under the sofa, there was no yelling, and she wasn’t quizzing us on the Bible. I thought...this was it. God finally heard my prayers. So I went along, and you were so excited, you wrote a list for Santa...made me mail it the next day.” Abbie said as she nudged Jenny.

They shared a laugh before Abbie rolled over and sat at the edge of the bed. Jenny shifted to her left so she was laying on her side, propped up on her elbow. 

“Christmas morning came, and you woke me up. You wanted to open presents just like those kids in the movies. But when we got downstairs, and saw Mama on the couch…”

“Abbie—”

“I remember the look on your face. The moment you called out to Mama and she started mumbling about demons. I saw you start to cry, and I hated myself for thinking things would change, for thinking God had listened to me. But what I hated the most, was you got hurt.”

“You were just a kid,” Jenny said as she sat up and moved next to Abbie. “There was nothing you could do.”

“I'm your big sister, I’m supposed to look out for you.” 

Abbie let the sob she’d been holding go. “That day in the woods, when we saw Moloch and they took you away, I failed you again.”

“A part of me knows you were just a scared kid that day, trying to avoid being labeled ‘crazy’, like Mama. But then you went away, and I was left with nothing, and...it still hurts, Abbie. I'm trying to move past that day, but it still hurts."

Abbie pulled Jenny into a hug. "You and I, we've spent a lot of time stuck in the past, hating ourselves and each other for things we can't change. I don't know why I was chosen for this, why Crane and I are Witnesses, but I can’t do this without you. I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost you." 

Jenny wiped a tear from her eye. “I’m not planning on going anywhere. Not after all the time we’ve lost.”

Abbie squeezed Jenny tight. “Crane and I may be prophesied to save the world, but I want you there beside us. We finish this together.” 

Jenny pulled away and Abbie stood and walked to the door. “Goodnight, Jenny.”

“Goodnight.”

****************************************************************************************************************************************************

Someone made coffee. Abbie inhaled and stretched before rolling over to grab her phone from the nightstand, cursing when she saw she'd overslept. Captain Irving's replacement wasn't scheduled to start for another week, but Abbie took pride in maintaining a near perfect attendance record while trying to save the world.

She heard movement in the kitchen, and got out of bed to make sure Crane wasn't trying to cook unsupervised. Their lessons hadn't progressed beyond microwaving after he'd insisted cooking was 'women's work' during his time. Jenny must have taken pity on him and continued his lessons at some point, because he was becoming an excellent cook.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" she yelled down the hallway after pulling a clean shirt over her head.

“Relax,” Jenny said, “I told Luke to cover for you. You’re ‘out sick’ for the day.”

“You did what?" Abbie asked as she walked into the kitchen.

Jenny and Crane were seated at the table, each clutching a mug of coffee while they studied the subway map that was spread between them.

“Good morning,” Jenny greeted with a smirk on her face. She stood and walked to the counter to pour a cup of coffee for her sister.

"Good morning, Lieutenant." Crane tipped his mug towards Abbie before bringing it to his mouth for a sip. "While you were resting Miss Jenny provided an overview of the subway.”

Abbie accepted the coffee Jenny offered and narrowed her eyes. "Did she?”

“I am eager to further my acquaintance with the modern world, and your sister was kind enough to offer to her assistance in this mission.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Abbie said as she rolled her eyes.

Jenny checked the time on her phone. "We'd better get going. My guy is going to meet us in the main entrance to the historical society."

"What's his name again?"

"Hawley. I'd run into him from time to time on jobs in the city. He's a pro at falsifying historical documents. He'll help us swap out the pages with Grace's spell."

Ichabod stood and walked into the living room to grab his coat.

Abbie waited until he left the room before turning to Jenny. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing, I swear! He was so excited about going to the city I thought I'd help him out."

“Well, I know you were looking forward to teasing him on the subway, but I'm going to drive into the city.”

"I just wanted to see if he could make it through a turnstile without hurting himself," Jenny pouted.

“Seriously Jenny, leave him alone today," Abbie laughed. "But thank you, for last night, and for helping Crane." 

Jenny nodded. “You’re welcome. Now, let’s get moving.”

Abbie grabbed her jacket and keys by the front door and the group followed her to the car. Jenny climbed into her usual spot in the rear as Crane slide into the front passenger seat. She'd just started to pull out of the driveway when Ichabod leaned over and faced her, concern etched into his features.

"If time allows," he whispered, "may we purchase a cheesecake from Seniors?"

"Juniors," Abbie said as she stared at Jenny through the rear-view mirror.

"What? You know he likes sweets!”

*******************************************************************************************************************************************************

It was mid-afternoon by the time Abbie pulled into a parking spot on West 76th Street.

Jenny tumbled out of the car, grumbling about traffic while Ichabod gracefully exited the vehicle and turned in a full circle to survey his surroundings.

His eyes swept over the ornate buildings and brownstones that lined each side of the street. "This was all wilderness and farmland in my day," he whispered.

Abbie caught him looking up and down the street in amazement as they turned onto Central Park West. She’d given him a book on New York City a few days before their outing to the local Little League game. She’d flagged passages on hot dogs, skyscrapers, and the subway while chattering about The Mets, noting their “date” to Sleepy Hollow’s baseball diamond was practice for the major leagues in the big city.

That was before their run in with the masons, before the Horseman of Death had a name, and before they’d met Henry. 

They made their way inside the main entrance to the New York Historical Society where a tall, blonde man lounged on a bench just beyond the security desk. He hadn’t shaved in days and his expression alternated between boredom and irritation at the screaming children in the museum, but he smiled and waved when he spotted Jenny.

Abbie grabbed Jenny's arm. "You trust this guy?" she whispered as they made their way forward.

"He's one of the best in the world, and very selective in the jobs he takes."

"How did you meet him?"

"We...used to have a thing," Jenny shrugged. "He's always been straight with me."

Abbie didn't consider that a vote of confidence, but kept the thought to herself. 

Crane, meanwhile, was studying the museum layout on a map posted in the entrance.

"Jenny Mills," Hawley drawled, "never thought I'd see you again. I thought they locked you away for good this time."

"Fuck you, Hawley!"

"And you brought friends! Who may I say I have the pleasure of meeting?" 

Ichabod bristled and moved closer to Abbie.

"This is my sister, Abbie, and her partner, Ichabod Crane."

Hawley's eyebrows shot into his hairline and he stumbled trying to re-arrange his features. 

So they'd spoken about her before, and judging by Hawley's expression she didn't come off  
very favorable.

"Where's the book?" Abbie asked.

"Relax, I've got it all arranged," Hawley drawled. "Follow me, please." He finished the sentence with a flourish and a slight bow which made Abbie roll her eyes.

Crane was standing at parade rest, but uttered a stiff "thank you, sir," and allowed both women to proceed down the hallway first before stepping in front of Hawley, preventing him from following them too closely.

They walked through the main exhibition hall before boarding an elevator in the back of the building. They took it to the second floor, where Hawley led them through a maze of art and artifacts, passing the main display cases of the Slavery in New York exhibit before entering the darkened library. They passed through the main reading room and down a dark hallway, stopping before a plain, unmarked door.

"Got the key somewhere in here," Hawley said while fishing in his pocket. He threw a wink in Abbie and Jenny's direction.

Ichabod cleared his throat. "How were you able to secure access to these documents?"

"The Chief Historian owes me a favor. Library's usually closed today but I told her you needed to do some research and she's set us up in this private reading room, but you need to move fast."

Hawley found the key and unlocked the door. They entered the room and were greeted by a petite blonde woman who was seated at a table in the center of the room. She smiled at the group before rushing towards Ichabod, forcing Abbie and Jenny to step out of her path. 

"Professor Crane, it is a great honor to meet you! Mr. Hawley has told me all about your research on Colonial America," she said while gripping Ichabod’s hand.

“Professor Crane, allow me to introduce Mrs. Eleanor Radcliffe, Chief Historian of this fine institution,” Hawley said.

"I'm eager to hear your thoughts on the Dixons, and their influence in the American Revolution," she grinned, ignoring the Dixon descendants in the room.

"I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Madam," Ichabod said.

Abbie cleared her throat.

"Oh, and are these lovely young women your assistants?" Eleanor asked, glancing at Abbie and Jenny.

Abbie looked up at Ichabod and smiled, but said nothing, while Jenny tried to conceal her laughter with a cough.

"Lieutenant Mills and her sister, Miss Jenny, are direct descendants of Reverend Joseph and Grace Dixon. They have been my guides in this latest round of research. One could say the Lieutenant has been my tether to this world."

The statement hung in the air, and Eleanor’s eyes shifted between Abbie and Crane.

"Well it must be love," Hawley teased.

Eleanor let out a shrill laugh.

Jenny motioned for Hawley to get on with whatever routine they'd established over the years. 

"So, uh you said you needed help dating a manuscript? Why don't we let the professor and his lovely assistants get to their research?"

"Of course, where are my manners? If you need anything my office number is written on the front of the packet here," Eleanor said, pointing to the cover of a folder that contained the ancient documents. "I'll come collect you in an hour."

"Thank you madam. We are truly in your debt," Ichabod said with a bow.

Hawley and Radcliffe left, and Jenny chuckled as soon as the door shut behind them. "You don't do subtle, do you?" she asked, turning to face Crane.

"I confess, it is one of my faults," he replied with a grin. "Even the Lieutenant has said I have ‘game'." 

"Never say that again," Jenny said.

"If you two are finished, we can get started," Abbie's said.

The packet lay on the table in front of her. Silence fell over the room as she opened the folder and stared into the past. “The Book of Negroes,” she murmured, skimming through the script on first page.

"How many lives were forever altered by this document?" Ichabod marveled. "A person's very life and liberty determined by inclusion or exclusion from this list, whilst I fought for the freedom of all men."

“Of all white men,” Jenny said, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s kind of an important footnote.”

“Yes, well I—”

Abbie tuned Crane and Jenny out as she turned the page. She skimmed through the orders that created this document, the board members responsible for assembling the list, their meeting location and hours before reading through pages of contested cases of former slaves desperate to leave New York—A father pleading for his daughter’s freedom, insisting she served the British with him at the height of the war. A young woman who fled from her plantation in Virginia only to be kidnapped by slave traders on the streets of New York was forced to name her owner.

She turned the page, and read the first entry in the ledger. “George Black, age 35. Ann Black, age 25, and their children, Reuben and Sukey, ages 7 and 5. They left on the Spring ship, bound for St. Johns.”

“I wonder what became of them.” Crane said.

Abbie looked up and shook her head. “I don’t know.”

Jenny moved behind Abbie and peered over her shoulder. “Some died on the journey. Others were sold back into slavery in the Caribbean. Those who went to Nova Scotia set up a small colony, but were given the worst land to farm. Many died of starvation. A few left for England or returned to Africa.”

“Not the happy ending I was hoping for,” Abbie sighed.

“No,” Jenny replied. “But they were free.” 

Abbie continued to search through the list, looking for Grace’s spell. “Are you sure your contact in London reviewed the British version? There’s nothing here.”

“Impossible. My guy is solid,” Jenny frowned. “Maybe you missed it.”

“I scanned the entire list. It’s not here—”

Jenny reached over Abbie’s shoulder and turned the last page. “It’s got to be here,” she said as she studied the back cover.

“Lieutenant, look!” Crane said while pointing at the book. The names on the pages, originally written in dull, flat black ink began to glow. 

Abbie and Jenny jumped back from the table as the pages began to turn on their own, periodically stopping at various points in the register where a few names burned brighter than the rest.

“These must be the people Grace helped escape,” Abbie said.

“But what caused this?” Crane asked as he motioned towards the book on the table. The pages continued to turn, highlighting a few names on each page.

“It started after you touched the page,” Abbie said, turning towards Jenny. 

The book finally stopped and came to rest on the second page, which shimmered before the original text faded away, revealing the elaborate script hidden beneath.

"I release thee from thy bondage, and set your spirit free," Jenny began to read aloud.

Abbie felt her chest tighten and exhaled, her breath shaky as it left her body. "Amazing," she whispered.

"Grace was an exceptional woman." Crane said.

Jenny opened her bag and pulled out a folder and a small leather case. She unzipped it and reached inside, revealing a small cloth, which she spread across the table. A scalpel, glue, and binding materials followed.

She removed the page containing Grace's spell, wielding the scalpel with practiced precision. She then applied a thin layer of glue to the edge of the replacement page and tipped it into the book, securing it to the binding with a firm press along the seam. She stepped back from the table to admire her work. "It's done. Let's go."

Abbie and Ichabod looked on in astonishment.

"Miss Jenny, I—"

"Where did you learn—"

"Thank me later," Jenny said, shoving her supplies back into her bag. "We're out of time."

There was a knock on the door before it opened. "Mills," Hawley said, “Eleanor here says time’s up.”

"I really do apologize, Professor Crane, but I must get the book back to its display case. This sort of thing isn’t normally done at the Historical Society, but I made an exception when Mr. Hawley said it was for your research,” Eleanor rambled while staring at Crane. “Did you find what you were looking for?“

“Yes we did, thank you,” Abbie interrupted. She brushed past Eleanor and walked out of the room. Jenny and Hawley followed, with Ichabod and Eleanor bringing up the rear. They made their way back down the hallway and entered the library’s main reading room.

“You must come back and give a lecture on the founding fathers and their heroism during the Revolutionary War, Professor. I could invite our largest donors, It would be a wonderful opportunity to raise funds for your research—” 

Abbie stopped short, causing the rest of the group to bump into her. Hawley, Crane, and Eleanor moved to untangle themselves from the collision, while Jenny stood still, rooted to her spot.

“Do you feel that?” Abbie asked.

“Yeah,” Jenny replied.

“Lieutenant?”

Hawley waved his hands in the air. “Feel what?”

Abbie turned and looked around the library. “Anger, despair, and—”

“Death” Jenny finished.

Something moved among the stacks in the corner of the room. Abbie drew her gun from her holster. "Who's there?" She shouted, moving slowly towards the corner.

"Really Officer Mills, I don't think that's necessary," Eleanor complained. "School children have a nasty habit of wandering off."

"Madam I beg you please heed the Lieutenant and Miss Jenny's warning," Ichabod said as he extended his arm to block Eleanor's path.

She pushed past him and strode towards the corner. "Excuse me, the library's closed!"

A gust of wind launched Eleanor into the air. She shrieked before she landed on her back at Abbie's feet. Hawley and Crane rushed to help her stand.

The temperature in the room plummeted.

"We have to get out of here," Abbie said. 

"Mills. What's going on?" Hawley asked Jenny.

"She's here," Jenny whispered.

"Miss Jenny?"

"Go...Run!"

Ichabod lifted Eleanor and the group raced towards the exit, but the doors slammed shut and the library's emergency lights went out, plunging the room into darkness.

Hawley pushed and pulled against the doors. "They're locked!

"Of course they are,” a woman said.

The group turned to face their captor. Katrina Crane stood in the center of the room. Her eyes lingered over Ichabod before she turned to face Abbie.

"Miss Mills. I see you’ve made your choice."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Junior's  
> Home the BEST (IMO) cheesecake in New York. I try to get a slice anytime I'm in the city.
> 
> 2\. Who invited Hawley to this story?  
> I'm so sorry, lol, but he served a purpose in this chapter.


	11. Revelations

Abbie pulled her gun. She heard Ichabod gasp before he rushed to stand beside her.

“You said I had 24 hours to give you my decision,” Abbie said. Her breath swirled in puffs of smoke as it left her body, and she shivered against the feeling of dread that filled the air. 

Ichabod moved ahead of Abbie, his left arm extended, palm facing outward in an attempt to diffuse the situation, “Katrina, please...allow Mrs. Radcliffe and Mr. Hawley to leave. We can find another way to free you from Moloch—”

“Your actions have made your intentions plain, Miss Mills. You’ve rejected my offer to show you how to use the powers God has graced you with.”

Jenny pushed forward.. “Your offer is a lie. The grace within us is God given, and it’s not for sale.”

Katrina smirked as she turned to face Jenny. “How lovely. You brought your infant witch with you.”

“Go to hell,” Jenny said through clenched teeth.

Abbie saw her reach for the gun she kept hidden on her side, and stepped in front of her sister, shielding her with her body. “What do you want, Katrina?”

“You are called to protect and serve the members of your community—those you love, are you not Miss Mills?”

“Katrina, please," Ichabod interrupted, “let us help you. We can find another way—”

“Do you love your sister?” she continued, “would you sacrifice her life for the ‘greater good’?”

Jenny pulled her gun. “Don’t listen to her, Abbie.”

Katrina stared into Abbie’s eyes. “You have failed her before,” she said with a smile. 

Abbie’s vision blurred and her mind began to race. She could hear Crane, Jenny, and the others yelling, but they sounded distant, as if they were miles away. She shook her head and struggled to remain on her feet as her view of the library began to fade. Katrina was standing before her, and Abbie felt her presence in her soul.

Her vision cleared, and she found herself back at the police station, sitting at her desk. 

Corbin’s replacement walked past her, accompanied by several officers Abbie didn’t recognize. “Mam?”

Reyes continued down the corridor and turned a corner, heading towards the station’s main entrance.

Abbie followed, rushing to keep up with the group. “What’s going on?”

Reyes stopped, and fell to her knees to speak to the two small children seated on the bench before her.

The other officers blocked Abbie's view of their faces, but kept Reyes in sight. 

Abbie frowned. Reyes appeared much younger here than in the photo she’d seen a few days ago. She crept forward, to get a better view. “No—”

“We want to go home,” she heard herself say.

“Where’s Mama?” Jenny asked through her tears.

“Your mom is going someplace where she can get help,” Reyes said to the girls. Another officer came over and tapped her on the shoulder. Reyes stood. “Stay here, I’ll be right back,” she said before she walked away.

Abbie watched her nine year old self struggle to maintain a brave face. “We’re gonna be ok,” she heard herself say as Jenny clung to her and cried.

The scene shifted, and she was in the interrogation room with Jenny, just after they’d been found in the woods. She saw the smirks on the detectives’ faces, heard one whisper “just like their mother,” to the psychiatrist conducting their interview.

Jenny screamed as the officers took her away. Abbie could still hear her as they dragged her down the hall.

She turned, and faced her teenage self. She’d forgotten the tears that ran down her cheeks, and the way her hands shook no matter how hard she pressed them against the table.

She never forgot the emptiness that came crashing down around her once the door slammed shut.

“You certainly tried,” Katrina said from the far corner of the room, where the gossiping officers once stood. “Shall we revisit your foray into drugs and criminal behavior during the rest of your misspent youth?”

Abbie stared at the young girl seated at the table and, for the first time, saw herself as she was—scared, and alone. 

Her skin burned and her fists shook as another presence filled the room. Her gaze shifted to Katrina, who stood smirking before her, and Abbie felt her skin burst into flames.

The intensity unnerved Abbie, until she realized it radiated from within her. Sparks flew from the overhead lighting, and Katrina recoiled. 

Abbie’s vision cleared, and she was back in the library. She tightened her grip on her gun and leveled it at Katrina.“I’m not afraid anymore.”

“Is that so?” Katrina asked. She raised her right arm, holding her palm open before twisting it into a fist. 

“Katrina, no!” Ichabod said.

Jenny started to gasp for air. Her gun slipped from her hands as her arms went slack. It hit the floor and rattled away before her knees buckled and her eyes rolled to the back of her head. 

Hawley rushed forward and caught her before she hit the ground. 

Abbie fired her gun. The bullet stopped and hung in the air before it disintegrated.

Katrina laughed. “Your weapons are of no use to you here.” 

Eleanor screamed.

Abbie turned, and saw Jenny convulsing in Hawley’s arms. 

“Jenny,” she yelled as she ran over to help him. She fell to her knees and grabbed her sister’s hand. “Hold on. Please, hold on.”

“There’s not gonna be much left of her if we don’t get her out of here,” Hawley said as he rolled Jenny to her side. 

Abbie spared a quick glance at Crane, hoping he'd be able to distract Katrina until she could find a way out.

Ichabod rushed towards Katrina, but was thrown back with a wave of her hand. He landed with a thud, and she moved to stand over him.

His eyes were blown wide and his mouth hung open as he pushed himself upright. “Katrina, who have you become?”

“The woman you knew died with you on the battlefield. Washington, Jefferson, Franklin...they all abandoned me in my hour of need. So I went to the last person who could assist me."

Jenny stopped convulsing. She coughed and gagged as she tried to draw air into her lungs. “Grace…”

“Your little witch is quite clever. I sought Grace’s help after learning of my husband’s death. She was the only practitioner with the power to resurrect the dead.”

Abbie felt Jenny tugging on her arm, but her eyes were fixed on Katrina. “But she refused, and you killed her?”

“She would not listen when I tried to explain Ichabod’s importance in this war. She said it was unnatural, and another Witness would be chosen!”

Ichabod stood, and faced his wife. “Grace was our ally, and your friend—”

“Who was she to refuse me?” Katrina spat. She turned, and fixed her glare on Jenny.

Jenny began to choke. Her grip tightened around Abbie's wrists as she struggled to breathe.

Abbie held onto her sister and begged God for help. “Please, she’s all I have left.”

"Everything I've done, the hell I have endured, the decisions I made, was for love, for our family," Katrina continued 

“Love?” Ichabod said, “this is not love. This is madness driven by hate. It’s damned your soul to Purgatory!”

Jenny tugged on Abbie’s wrist, and her eyes flickered towards her bag.

Hawley shook Abbie’s shoulder. “I think she’s trying to tell us something.”

Eleanor grabbed Jenny’s bag. “She must have something in here to help,” she muttered. “Grace wouldn’t have sent her here defenseless…” 

Jenny struggled to speak. “Loophole,” she choked before gasping for air again, pulling it deep into her lungs.

Abbie shook her head. “Loophole? What does that mean?” 

“She once told me magic always contains a loophole,” Hawley said, “nature’s way to undo the unnatural.” 

Eleanor pulled a small vial of blue and clear liquid from Jenny’s bag. She leaned over and caught Abbie’s eyes. “Lieutenant Mills, I think if Katrina could have killed your sister, she would have.” She shook the strange contents of the vial, and the blue and clear fluids combined and started to bubble. 

Abbie squeezed Jenny’s hand before turning towards Katrina. "You can't kill her, can you? That’s the loophole. We have to choose to give up our grace.” 

Katrina’s face contorted with rage. “I can make your life unbearable. You will be forced to watch as your sister suffers in agony for an eternity.” 

“Then do it already!” Abbie said.

Eleanor uncorked Jenny’s vial and poured the contents on the floor. 

Katrina shrieked. Smoke rose from the floor and wafted over her feet. It spun around her, and her form began to disappear as it swept up her body. “Witness, this is your formal warning. Moloch shall rise.”

Jenny rolled over, gasping for breath. Abbie hugged her, before remembering to give her some space to breathe.

Hawley helped her sit up, and rubbed her back as the color returned to her face. “What was in the vial, Mills?” 

She opened her mouth to speak, but immediately closed it in pain.

“Peace water,” Eleanor said. “My dear, Grace has prepared you well. She’s nothing short of extraordinary—” 

“Are you a—” Abbie started.

“A witch? Heavens no,” Eleanor said. “You and your sister are among the precious few who can lay claim to that legacy. But you don’t work your way up to Chief Historian of the New York Historical Society without encountering the odd prophecy.”

Hawley scratched his head. “So you knew who they were this whole time?”

Eleanor smiled. “Knew about the Witnesses? Oh yes. The members of this institution have guarded the knowledge required to win this war through the centuries. We’ve been waiting for you, Lieutenant Mills and Captain Crane. Our doors will always be open when you need us.”

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************

Abbie drove past the exit to get to her place, ignoring Jenny’s protests and headed north, towards the cabin.

Jenny was still weak when they arrived. Ichabod helped her out of the car and into the house. Abbie followed them inside, and despite Jenny’s declarations of self-sufficiency, helped her get ready for bed while Ichabod went to collect wood for a fire. 

She went to check on Ichabod next, and found him in the great room. 

"Is Miss Jenny resting comfortably?"

Abbie jumped. He’d always had a sixth sense when it came to her.

"After fighting me for an hour, yes. You know how she is," she said as she slid onto the couch next to him.

The fabric scratched her back as she sunk into the cushions to his left, landing a little closer than she'd normally sit.

Ichabod nodded. "Indeed."

Any other night, Abbie would have swatted his arm and laughed, but she let the comment slide, and stared into the fire instead.

She noticed movement out of the corner of her eye and looked down. His hands flexed upon his knee, alternating between opening and closing into fists.

She knew how to read him too, and when she placed her right hand over his left, the movement stopped. She lingered, and when she made no attempt to withdraw her hand, he turned his over and held onto her.

Abbie looked up. He was staring at her, studying her in that way that caused her to reveal things she’d never told another soul.

She tried to pull back but his grip tightened, and his thumb stroked the back of her hand.

"I was a soldier. I survived terrible battles, and heard the cries of men at the moment of their death.” He paused and drew a breath before continuing, "but when I saw the pain Katrina inflicted upon Miss Jenny, the devastation upon your face—”

"Don't..." 

Discussing Jenny meant thinking about what she’d been forced to relive, and that she'd almost lost her her sister.

She inhaled, and tried to swallow the sob caught in her throat.

His grip tightened before he pulled her to his side and wrapped his arms around her. She leaned into his embrace, and began to cry.

"I couldn't help her. She was dying, and there was nothing I could do. I...how did she do it for so long?”

“Abbie?”

Ichabod unraveled his arms from her frame. He turned her sideways, so they were face to face.

"My mother.” She shook her head and wiped away her tears before unraveling herself from his embrace, scooting over on the couch to give herself some room. 

"Abbie?"

She sighed, and her mouth twisted into a half-smile before her gaze returned to the fire. “I loved her. But then dad left, and everything changed. One minute she’d be fine, and then...something would set her off.” 

“I’m sorry,” Ichabod said. 

He reached for her but she pulled away and stood up, her back straight and shoulders set as she walked to the fireplace.

“I hated her. I spent years blaming her for everything that happened to Jenny and me. I thought, if she loved us she would have fought for us. Or, why couldn’t she at least try to be normal so we could go home?” 

She paced the length of the hearth, stopping in front of the picture of Jenny and Corbin. “Jenny was so little when we were taken away, still a baby really.” She paused, and tried to blink away her tears. “I did the best I could.”

Ichabod stood and rushed to her side, gently grabbing her shoulders before lifting her chin to meet his eyes. “Abbie, you were a child too, with no one to protect or guide you.”

Abbie opened her mouth to reply, but was cut short by a sudden burst of light. She covered her eyes as it intensified, and heard the voice of Grace Dixon.

“Abigail, Captain Crane is correct. Your mother was battling demons only she could see, and you all paid a terrible price. Lori lost her sanity and her children. You and your sister lost your mother, and each other.”

“Would she ever forgive me, for not believing her?"

Grace stepped forward. She wiped the tears from Abbie’s face before she grabbed her hands and held them within her own. “Do you remember the day you were taken from your mother, and what she told you as you said goodbye?”

Abbie paused. “She said, ‘when your eyes have been opened, we’ll see each other again’.”


	12. The Oracle

Something small and sharp connected with Jenny’s arm.

"If you kick me again it’ll be the last time you use that foot," Abbie said as she yanked the blanket over to her side. "Always was a bed hog..."

Jenny sat up. She rubbed the spot where Abbie elbowed her before she grabbed her phone from the nightstand.

Texts from Hawley flashed across her screen. She started to reply, tapping out a short message letting him know she was ok, but her thumb hovered over the SEND button. She exhaled, deleted the text, and locked the screen. 

“He called a couple of times too.”

Jenny turned and looked at Abbie. She’d burrowed deeper into the blankets, but kept one eye open to watch her sister.

“Are you going to answer him?”

Jenny placed the phone back on the nightstand. “Maybe later.”

“Mm-hm.”

Jenny didn’t owe Hawley anything. They were never exclusive, even when they were together, but she didn’t like Abbie’s tone.

“You and Crane were up late. What were you talking about?”

Abbie stared at her for a moment before answering. “Everything, and nothing.”

“Care to elaborate?” Jenny scoffed.

“I’m trying to sleep.”

“Fine,” Jenny said. She got up and walked into the living room.

The sun was beginning to rise, and the woods surrounding the cabin were quiet. She grabbed her sweater from the back of a chair near the table, and looked over at the couch. “Crane?” 

His bedding was neatly rolled and stacked in the corner. She crossed the room and walked out onto to the porch, spotting him on the dock overlooking the lake.

“God,” she muttered, “you picked a couple of winners to be your Witnesses,” she said as she pulled on her sweater and went to join him.

"Hey Crane."

"Good morrow, Miss Jenny."

Jenny caught the smile on his face before he performed an elaborate bow. He’d been in this century long enough to know such formal behavior was unnecessary, especially with her, but he continued for her amusement.

He rose, and clasped his hands behind his back before returning his gaze to the lake.

They stood in silence as shades of purple, red, and gold began to sweep across the sky. Mist rose off the water's surface at the far end of the lake, leaving the reflection of the trees on the opposing shoreline in it’s place. 

"How are you feeling?" Crane asked.

"I’ll be alright," she said.

He started to say something. His mouth opened, but he paused, and closed it before speaking again. "Miss Jenny, I must apologize for my behavior upon learning of Katrina’s true nature, and for the harm she’s caused over the course of your life.”

“Thanks, but you shouldn’t you be saying this to Abbie?”

“We discussed the matter at length last evening, but I wanted you to hear it from me.”

Jenny shook her head. Her gaze shifted from the horizon to the surface of the lake near the dock. There was just enough light to make out her reflection. “Everything and nothing.”

“Pardon?”

She turned and faced him. "That’s how Abbie described your conversation.”

“I see—”

“Look, for what it’s worth, I appreciate your apology, but I don’t think it’s fair for you to take the blame for Katrina’s actions. She made her own choices after you died.”

Crane nodded. “And yet, I cannot reconcile this with the simple fact that Grace's generosity and kindness towards my family has brought yours nothing but misery and pain.”

“Entwining our fates. Well, yours and Abbie’s.”

A moment passed, and she studied him before she continued. “I used to be jealous of your roles as Witnesses, and the connection between you two. She's my sister. We didn’t talk for thirteen years. Then you show up and suddenly she’s ready to face everything she's been running from.”

"Miss Jenny, I—”

Jenny crossed her arms over her chest. "You've been good for her. You’ve helped her face things the way I never could. Pushed us together when we didn't see eye to eye."

She took a step towards Crane, forcing him to look at her before she spoke. “Katrina said it herself—the woman you married is gone. It's ok to move on with someone else."

His eyes wandered back to the cabin.

“You’re so obvious,” Jenny laughed.

Crane blushed, but the moment was broken when they heard a loud crash from the kitchen, and Abbie cursing.

"You put the coffee on the top shelf again, didn’t you?” Jenny asked as they turned and walked towards the cabin.

“Your sister drinks an absurd amount. I merely thought—”

“Out of sight, out of mind? Please. The poor thing can't function without it, and I'm not eating anything she cooks before she's had caffeine."

*******************************************************************************************************************************************************

Breakfast was quiet despite the start to the morning.

Jenny caught Abbie glancing at her whenever she thought she wasn’t looking. She’d do the same whenever Abbie’s eyes shifted to the uneaten food on her plate, or when she’d toy with her empty coffee mug.

Crane watched them both. “Perhaps the two of you should travel alone this morning.”

“No!” Abbie said. She bit her lip before continuing, “why don’t you come and wait in the hallway, in case you’re needed.”

Ichabod nodded. “Very well, Lieutenant. I shall prepare for our departure,” he said as he cleared his dishes and got up from the table.

Jenny rolled her eyes. If Abbie wanted Crane to come along for moral support she could have just said so. He’d be a good distraction for them if needed.

“Are you going to be alright? Going back there? Seeing Mama?” Abbie asked once Crane left the room.

Jenny shrugged. “I’ve visited Mama before. Not all of us had the luxury to run away, go to college.”

Abbie’s face fell. She picked up her fork and pushed the food on her plate around

Jenny put her head in her hands. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok,” Abbie started to say.

“No, it’s not. It’s not fair to keep lashing out at you.”

Abbie nodded. “What was it like? Seeing her?”

“They used to let me sit with her for an hour or two, if she was having a good day and I was on my best behavior. I thought...maybe there was a chance we could go home again, so I’d beg her to try to get better. She’d just look at me and smile, say ‘you look just like your daddy’. Then her expression would go vacant, and she’d be gone.”

Abbie placed her hand over her heart. "My God."

Jenny stood and walked to the sink. She rinsed her dishes before turning to face Abbie. “After a while her condition began to deteriorate. The nurses would say she was too weak to see me. I started to act out but, no one cared. They sent me to a ‘group home’ instead, and left me there to rot. Corbin found me a few years later.”

Jenny walked back to the table and sat next to Abbie. “He would sit with Mama from time to time. He tried to get me to go too, but I was so angry back then…I haven’t seen her in years.”

“She may not even recognize me,” Abbie said.

Jenny paused. She’d never considered what this must be like for Abbie, who had memories of their family whole and intact, and was left to pick up the pieces when it all fell apart.

“She’d ask for you sometimes,” Jenny said. “I’d get so mad and tell her how you lied. She always said you’d be back someday, just like Corbin.”

“Did Grace ever say what happened to her?”

Jenny shook her head. “She just said she was carrying a load she wasn’t meant to bear.”

Grace’s journal lay on the table between them. Jenny opened it and turned to the unbinding spell. She ran her fingers over the elaborate script before her eyes fell upon a note scratched into the corner of the page:

_Children are made whole when loved as they are, and given what they need to be free._

“Are you ready?” Abbie asked.

Jenny closed the journal and shoved it into her bag before she met Abbie’s eyes. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

****************************************************************************************************************************************************

“Abbie and Jenny Mills, and Ichabod Crane to see Lori Mills”

“Sign in here, and fill out these forms,” the receptionist behind the front desk said to Abbie. She shoved a clipboard into her hands and smirked at Jenny while Abbie signed them in.

Jenny’s hands curled into fists. She shoved them into her pockets and took a step towards the desk, but Crane moved forward, blocking her path.

“Is there something you wish to share, madam?” he asked.

Abbie looked up from her paperwork. “What’s going on?” 

“Nothing, Lieutenant Mills,” the receptionist said. “Wait here. I’ll call someone to escort you to your mother’s room.”

“Thank you,” Abbie said. She stared at the receptionist before dropping the clipboard on her desk.

The receptionist jumped. “It’ll be just a minute,” she said with a tight smile as the pen rolled off her desk and rattled away.

Jenny sat on a bench in the far corner of the hall. Crane followed, and sat next to her. She saw him trying to catch her attention, but didn’t trust herself to talk.

Abbie sat on her other side. “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine,” Jenny said.

“Lieutenant Mills?” a nurse called, “Hi, my name is Sarah. I can take you back now.”

Crane stood and looked at Abbie. “Lieutenant?”

“Come on,” she said. “You can wait outside the room.”

He turned towards Jenny. “If Miss Jenny is agreeable…”

“Sure. You’re practically family.” She tossed a wink at Abbie and pushed ahead of the group.

“You look good,” Sarah said to Jenny as they walked down the hall. “I’m glad to see you’re doing well.”

Jenny kept walking. “I know where I’m going. You don’t have to follow us.”

“I’m afraid that’s against hospital policies—”

“Since when has anyone at this place ever cared about policies?”

Abbie placed a hand on Jenny’s shoulder. “Show us the way, please.”

Sarah nodded, and turned in the opposite direction. “This way.”

She ushered them down the hall and onto the elevator. “Sheriff Corbin had your mother moved to the private facility on the top floor a couple of years ago. After he died his estate paid for her treatment in perpetuity.”

Abbie stopped walking, causing Crane to bump into her. “What?”

“Did he not tell you?” 

Abbie shook her head. 

“A lot went unsaid over the years,” Jenny said.

“Well, I think she knew you were coming. She’s been talking about you both for the past two weeks."

The elevator doors opened, and they stepped into the hallway. This floor was bright and airy, with large windows and framed paintings on the walls.

"Aren’t they beautiful? They were done by our patients in art class,” Sarah said as she led them down the hall.

“Art class?” Jenny scoffed. An entryway to the left led to a large common room. There were several seating areas with comfortable chairs, and a large TV.

They continued walking, passing several rooms before they stopped near end of the hall.

“Well this is it,” Sarah said before knocking and unlocking the door. “Lori, you have some very special guests here to see you.”

Abbie and Jenny stood, side by side, just beyond the threshold.

Sarah smiled and gestured for the sisters to enter. “Go in ladies, I’ll be at the nursing station if you need me.”

“I’ll wait here if you need me Lieutenant,” Ichabod said with a bow to Abbie, “Miss Jenny.”

Jenny pushed the door open. Light from the early morning sun obscured her vision. She blinked and raised her arm to shield her eyes. “Mama?”

Lori Mills was seated in a recliner near the window. Her hair was pulled back into the large puff she’d worn around the house. She stood, and turned to face her visitors. “Who’s there?”

She seemed much smaller than Jenny remembered, but her eyes held the same intensity as her gaze wandered over the young women before her.

“Mama, it’s us,” Abbie said, “Abbie and Jenny.” She shifted, and a ray of light hit her badge.

Lori’s expression darkened. She fixed her glare on Abbie and rushed towards her. “You can’t just come in here and take my children away from me!”

“Mama,” Abbie gasped.

Jenny froze. Her heart began to race as memories she’d buried returned.

Abbie grabbed Jenny’s arm and pulled her behind her smaller frame.

“Your badge,” Jenny whispered as they backed away.

Abbie took a deep breath. She exhaled and raised right her hand, while keeping Jenny restrained with her left. “We’re not here to take your children, mam. We just want to ask you a few questions.”

Lori stepped forward. The smooth skin on her brow furrowed before she grabbed Abbie’s hands and looked into her eyes. "You tell her to leave them still waters alone, you hear?” she said with a nod. “Roll over to the river Jordan. Trouble it there."

She dropped Abbie’s hands and returned to her bed, her back facing the entrance and her face towards the sun.

“This was a mistake. We’ve upset her,” Abbie said as she started to back out of the door.

Jenny blocked her path. “Wait—”

Light filled the room and Grace appeared before them. “Please, stay. She’s on her way back.” She crossed the room, sat next to Lori, and placed her arms around her.

“I’m so tired,” Lori said as her shoulders slumped and rested her head against Grace’s shoulder.

Grace turned, and waved the sisters over. Jenny walked to the bed and sat beside her mother.

Abbie remained by the door.

Grace pointed to the recliner by the window and it moved forward, closer to Lori’s bed. She turned back to Abbie. “Sit here child.”

“Grace, what happened?” Abbie asked, “What happened to our mother?”

“Abigail,” Grace said, “please, sit down.”

Abbie crossed the room and sat down as Grace requested, but dug her heels into the floor and pushed the chair away from her mother's bed.

“She wanted you and your sister to live a normal life, not bound by fate. But our family has fought this war for generations, and you both displayed great power at an early age…”

Jenny reached over and took her mother’s hand, squeezing it with her own.

Lori opened her eyes. She smiled at Grace, mouthing a small ‘thank you’ before she noticed someone was holding her hand. She turned, and lost her breath when she saw Jenny’s face. She pulled Jenny forward, kissing her temple as she wrapped her arms around her and held her tight.

Jenny stiffened as her mother swayed back and forth. Lori kissed her again, and she began to shake. She inhaled, tucked her head under her mother’s chin, and relaxed before her arms circled Lori’s waist.

She wanted to stay there forever, but the moment ended, and Jenny pulled back. She dried her eyes with the back of her hand and turned towards Abbie.

Lori followed Jenny’s gaze, and stared at the young woman before her.

Abbie looked away. Her eyes started to drop towards the floor, but Lori leaned forward and lifted her chin. She tucked the stray hair that had fallen into her daughter’s eyes behind her ear before resting her hand on Abbie’s cheek. “I know your face…”

Abbie closed her eyes and leaned into her mother's touch.

"My first baby,” Lori said. She stood and moved forward, stopping just short of the recliner. “Abbie…”

Abbie sat wide-eyed and motionless in the chair. A moment passed. She stood, and took a small step before she fell into her mother’s arms.

“I knew this day would come,” Lori said.

“You did,” Abbie said.

Lori pulled Jenny into the hug. “We don’t have much time,” she said as she held both of her daughters close. “My mind comes and goes, but I want you to hear what I have to say.” She paused before continuing, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t there for you when you needed me. I wasn’t strong enough, and I failed you both. One day, I hope you’ll forgive me.”

“It’s time,” Grace said.

Lori nodded. “I need the words. Did you bring the journal?”

Jenny opened her bag. "I have it." She turned to the marked page, and felt her heart stop—Grace's elaborate script was fading from the page.

She turned to Grace. “What’s happening?”

“Look again,” Grace said. 

Grace’s text continued to fade until the page was blank. Jenny shook her head. “But the spell…”

“Look again,” Grace said, “and see what you need from your mother to unbind your magic.”

New text was beginning to appear. There, in Jenny’s own handwriting appeared the words:  
_Speak the truth_  
_Straight from your heart ___

__Jenny shook her head. “But—”_ _

__Lori leaned over Jenny’s shoulder. She read the new inscription and smiled. “You always sought the truth, even as a little girl. You deserve to know what happened. You both do,” she said glancing at Abbie._ _

__She paused, and gathered herself before continuing. “Moloch could sense your powers. You were both growing so strong. He sent every demon under his command to come after you. Your daddy and I were among the last of the families that knew of the war between good and evil in Sleepy Hollow, and when he disappeared…”_ _

__Lori hugged her children again. “You were so young when you were taken from me, Jenny. I did the only thing I could to protect you—I bound your magic to mine, so it couldn’t be stolen. I hoped Moloch would come for me and would leave you alone.”_ _

__"Lori," Grace said, "it's time."_ _

__Lori closed her eyes and nodded. She kissed each of her daughters one last time. “I should be the one teaching you, showing you how to use your magic. We used to practice, when you were small. The three of us. In the kitchen. It was our time. Passing down the family stories, mother to daughter, as it was for generations. But Grace is here. She will guide you, as she has all her daughters before." She turned, and faced Jenny. “Cross your arms, right over left."_ _

__Jenny did as she was told after a gentle smile from Grace and a nod from Abbie._ _

__Lori did the same, and took Jenny’s hands. “My wild child," she said with a smile before taking a deep breath. "I wish I could travel this road for you, so you won’t have to know any more pain, but I can’t. You and Abbie balance each other. Hold onto each other when times get tough.”_ _

__Jenny began to feel warm. Her hands glowed and her veins began to burn. Her eyes widened, and she tried to pull away, but Lori increased her grip._ _

__“Abbie,” Jenny cried._ _

__“What’s happening?” Abbie asked. She tried to move forward but Grace pulled her back._ _

__“It’s alright,” Grace said. “She hasn’t had access to her magic since she was a child. She’s not used to feeling its power."_ _

__Jenny couldn't breathe. She continued to struggle, but couldn’t break the connection. Her veins began to glow and the burning intensified. It crept up her arms and into her chest, settling in her heart before it shot down her legs._ _

__She wanted to scream. She looked to Grace and Abbie for help._ _

__“Why didn’t you tell her this would happen?” Abbie asked. She tried to break free, but Grace held on._ _

__“Jennifer, breathe. Stop fighting,” Grace said._ _

__Jenny opened her mouth and pulled air into her lungs. She took a final breath, closed her eyes, and forced herself to relax._ _

__The pain stopped. Her senses were sharper. She closed her eyes, and could see all that came before her, and all that may come after._ _

__Jenny’s hands started to shake and the connection broke. She heard Abbie scream, and opened her eyes just as Lori stepped back, and fell to the ground._ _


	13. The Old Mill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Enjoy!  
> A/N: At the end of the chapter

Chapter 13: The Old Mill

 

“Mama?” Jenny’s voice sounded small and weak, foreign to her own ears, and barely audible above the clatter of the windows as they rattled in their frames.

Crane rushed into the room. Abbie and Grace hurried to his side as he lifted Lori from the floor and helped him place her on the bed.

“Mama?” Jenny tried again, but her voice cracked over the lump in her throat. She took a step towards the bed and started to sway when a wave of nausea rolled through her stomach. The windows continued to rattle, growing louder as her vision blurred, and the room began to spin.

Grace placed a hand on her shoulder and guided her to the chair beside Lori’s bed. “It’s alright,” she said, rubbing Jenny’s back. “Close your eyes. Breathe.”

Jenny closed her eyes and leaned into Grace’s embrace. She took a deep breath and exhaled. The windows quieted. The room stopped spinning. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Abbie said. “She was fine until the spell took hold.”

“She needs to rest,” Grace said.

“Didn’t you say she was carrying a load she wasn’t meant to bear?” Jenny asked.

“Your powers were too much for her,” Grace said, “but it was a burden she was willing to bear.

Lori moaned, and opened her eyes. Her gaze fell on Jenny, still in Grace’s arms. She reached for Jenny’s hand and held it within her own. “I’m alright, baby,” she said and smiled before she turned to look for Abbie. Her smiled faded as her eyes traveled upward, and saw Crane standing behind Abbie. She grabbed her children, and turned towards Grace. “It’s begun?”

“It has,” Grace replied.

“Mama,” Abbie said, “this is—”

“Captain Crane,” Lori interrupted. “I saw this day in a vision, but in that version of the future my family was whole, and I was a mother to my daughters. Does he know of his wife’s true nature?” she asked Abbie.

“I do, Madam,” Crane replied.

Lori fixed him with a hard stare. “I need to know you take your role in this war seriously, that your pride won’t cloud your judgement, and you’ll look out for my girls.”

Crane stepped forward and met Lori’s eyes. “With my life, madam.”

Lori shook her head. “You and Abbie are fated to see this to the end, but you will make sure Jenny is standing there with you.”

“I give you my word.”

Lori nodded, then faced her daughters. “You should go. I can feel my mind drifting...I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“What happens to you? Where do you go when you slip away?” Abbie asked.

Lori held Abbie’s hand. She took a breath and looked towards the ceiling before facing Abbie again. “To the day they took you away.”

“Who did this to you?” Jenny asked. She’d worked hard to forget her memories of that day. Only the worst remained—her mother crying, the perfume of the social worker who packed her bags, a cold, hard bench in the police station, and Abbie telling her everything was going to be ok.

Lori glanced at Ichabod before she turned back to Jenny. “Katrina Crane. She said she’d take what I treasured most, and would force me relive that moment forever, unless I gave up your magic. You must pay attention to the warning she gave you,” she whispered as the light began to fade from her eyes. “It begins tonight.”

“Is there any way to help her?” Jenny asked Grace.

“I’ve searched, and found no way to undo this curse,” Grace said.

* * *

Grace remained with Lori but called Abbie back just before she left the room. “Your sister needs to rest. Keep her calm and monitor her condition. I will come toyou this evening to check her progress.”

Abbie nodded and stepped into the hall, closing the door behind her.  

“I’m not a child,” Jenny said, crossing her arms over her chest.

Abbie sighed. “She just wants to make sure you’re okay.”

Grace mentioned that she might feel some adverse effects when her powers were restored during her training, but Jenny didn’t like being coddled. Another wave of nausea rolled through her stomach. She tightened her arms across her chest and straightened her back, increasing her height.  “I’m fine.”

The hall lights flickered and dimmed. Abbie didn’t flinch, but her eyes darted between the lights and Jenny. “You’ve been through a lot today. Let’s go home, and regroup—”

“You heard Mama. We’re running out of time—”

“Lieutenant, given the warnings from your mother and Mrs. Dixon, perhaps we should head to the archives,” Crane said. His brows lifted and he tilted his head in wonder when the lights returned to their normal setting. “Miss Jenny can use one of the cots you’ve procured if she needs to rest.”

“Fine,” Abbie said. “Let’s go.”

Jenny mouthed a small ‘thank you’ to Crane as they left the building. She climbed into the back of Abbie’s Jeep and buckled her seat belt.

Abbie watched her through the rear-view mirror. “You let me know if you need to go home.”

“I said I’m fine. Just drive.”

Abbie pursed her lips. The sisters stared at each other before Crane cleared his throat, prompting Abbie to start the car.

Jenny leaned her head against the window and stared at the top floor of Tarrytown Psychiatric. Her mind wandered to the first time she’d met Sheriff Corbin. They were sitting in his office, just after he’d picked her up for shoplifting. She’d demanded to know why he was letting her go.

He scratched his chin and laughed. “Never had anybody ask me why I’m letting them go.” He paused, and studied her before he leaned forward in his chair. “But you’re not like everyone else, are you? You’re different. Special. No one’s ever told you so, but you are. One day, you’ll learn why.”

Corbin stood and walked to the door. “Come on. Let’s get you somethin’ to eat before you go home.”

Jenny didn’t speak for the rest of the afternoon. Everyone knew what she said she’d seen that day in the woods. No one ever talked about it.

“What did you mean,” she asked as they pulled in front of her foster mother’s unkempt yard, “when you said ‘one day I’d learn why’?”

Corbin looked at her through the rear-view mirror. He said nothing as he got out of the squad car and opened the back door.

Jenny rolled her eyes and got out of the car. “Fucking cops,” she muttered under her breath before she stormed off towards the house.

“Hey! Hey, kid...wait a minute.” He shut the door and followed her.

Jenny stopped just before she reached the porch and turned to face him. She crossed her arms over her chest and waited for the lie.

“I know what people around here say about you, about your family. But I know what they don’t. You’re all part of something. I don’t understand it yet, but I’m working on it. If you’re interested, I’d like to help you find the truth about what happened to you.”

Jenny stared at him. There was something different about him too, but he’d have to work harder than this to earn her trust. She tightened her arms across her chest and tried her best to look bored. “What do you know?”

He moved past her and walked up the steps.

“I knew it,” she said, just before he knocked on the door.

“One step at a time. Let’s get you home first.”  

“This isn’t my home. I just stay here..”

Corbin’s head fell to his chest. He turned, and nodded. “I know, kid. But let’s take this slow. The truth can be an awful burden to bear.”

* * *

“Wake up,” Abbie said, shaking her shoulder. “We’re here.”

Jenny yawned and lifted her arms, wiggling her fingers at the end of her stretch. Sparks flew from her fingertips and the air around her hands crackled with energy.

Crane mimicked her movements with wide eyes, but his expression changed to a pout when nothing happened.

Abbie rolled her eyes. “Let’s go,” she said with a smile before she turned and walked into the building.

* * *

Crane set up a cot for Jenny once they were settled, and asked Abbie to recall her visit from Katrina while they ate lunch, pressing for any details they may have overlooked in their initial investigation.

Jenny tried to help but she felt sluggish and out of sync with her own body. She wandered over to the cot to rest—just for a few minutes she told herself as she closed her eyes.

* * *

She woke up three hours later. Late afternoon sunlight filtered in through the windows, flooding the room in a soft glow. Stacks of ancient books sat on the table, nearly obscuring Abbie from view as she stared at her laptop and rubbed her forehead.

Crane flipped through his notes, tapping his pen against the table before he stopped and pinched his nose. “There must be some minor detail we are overlooking. I’m sure of it.”

“We’ve gone through everything. None of it makes sense!” Abbie shoved the laptop away from her, knocking a stack of books off the edge of the table in a cloud of dust.

Jenny stood, and walked to the table. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“Grace said you needed to rest,” Abbie said. “How are you feeling?”

Jenny was no longer nauseous, but the excess energy coursing through her veins left her feeling buzzed. Grace was right—rest had helped her adjust, but admitting so would only lead to more coddling, and she could feel Abbie watching her, so she shrugged her shoulders and said she was “fine.”

Abbie narrowed her eyes.

“Perhaps Miss Jenny could assist us,” Crane said to Abbie. His eyes darted between the sisters before he continued. “We seem to have reached an impasse in our investigation. Our attempts to solve the clues hidden in Katrina’s warning have been unsuccessful.”

“What have you got?” Jenny said, sliding into the chair next to Abbie. “Start from the beginning.”

Abbie sighed. “Katrina appeared in my bathroom mirror, and pulled me into some version of the Dixon’s church. When I wouldn’t accept her offer to join Moloch she said his army would wash over the Earth and I’d be forced to watch you suffer for the rest of time.”

“That is the abridged version,” Crane said.

“Similar to the warning she gave Mama,” Jenny said. “I wonder if she used the same method to contact her.”

Crane leaned forward in his chair. “Prior to her release from Purgatory, Katrina’s sole method of communication to our world was through mirrors.”  

Abbie’s eyes widened. “The incantation to open the gateway to Purgatory references mirrors!” She pulled her laptop towards her and began tapping on the keys. “Here...mirrors are often believed to be portals between worlds,” She read from the screen.

Crane shifted closer to Abbie and read over her shoulder. “When Katrina pulled you through the mirror, you said you’d felt like you’d been doused with water?”

“Yes,” Abbie said. “The mirror rippled, and it felt like cold water.” She turned the laptop and scooted closer to Crane so he could read the screen.

Jenny watched them and smirked. Crane confirmed her suspicions of his feelings for Abbie that morning while they watched the sunrise. Their conversation on the dock at dawn seemed like a lifetime ago. She pictured the colors in the sky and the mist rising from the lake, revealing her reflection in the water below. “The first mirrors used by humans were small pools of water,” she gasped.

Crane grabbed a book from a nearby shelf. He flipped through the pages, pausing before he found the information he was searching for. “Miss Jenny is correct. Humans then progressed to polished stones, such as obsidian, which were often wet to make their surfaces more reflective.”

He looked up from the page and turned to face Abbie. “Katrina said Moloch’s forces would ‘wash over the Earth’—”

Abbie moved closer to Crane and read the page. “So the doorway they’re planning to use is located in a body of water, but where?

Crane grabbed a map and unfolded it across the table. “Crossing over to this realm requires significant energy, It would have to be located along one of the lay lines which run through the area.” He traced the properties known to Katrina during their time, exhaling when he didn’t find any near a body of water.

“What about here?” Jenny asked, pointing to a location on the map.

“The old mill?” Abbie said.

Jenny shrugged. “It has a pond and is next to Frederick’s Manor.”

“Of course,” Crane said. He looked at Jenny, and studied her features.

“You were saying?” Jenny said.

“Abraham’s father owned the best land in the Hudson Valley, including this mill. Farmers would travel for miles to have their grain ground here…”

“Crane,” Abbie said, “what is it?”

“Miss Jenny bears an uncanny resemblance to the master miller, Caesar, and his family." He leaned forward, to get a better look. “It’s quite remarkable. And the surname, Mills...”

“What?” the sisters said in unison.

He rushed to the corner of the archives where the genealogical records were stored, pulled  several folders and spread the documents across the table. “According to these records,” he said glancing at the sisters, “you are Caesar's descendants on your father’s side.”

Jenny shook her head. "Wait. Are you saying our father's family was enslaved by Abraham, your friend?"

Jenny looked to Abbie, but her sister was staring at Crane with her mouth hanging open.

Crane lowered his head as his face turned red. "I'm afraid Abraham's father wasn't as enlightened as the Fredericks," he said, shifting from foot to foot.

Jenny knew this conversation that was bound to happen, but they didn't have time to discuss it now. "We need to move."

Abbie shook her head. "I’ll call Luke. He’s on duty and can block traffic in and out of the area while we check it out.” She pulled her phone from her back pocket and looked at Jenny. “Call Hawley. We may need backup.”

* * *

They arrived just before sunset. Crane eyes swept over the crumbling building. The stone walls were covered in graffiti, and beer cans and cigarette butts littered the ground. “This was once the pride of the Hudson Valley,” he said.

Jenny rolled her eyes. The mill was a hangout for local teenagers now. She used to come here herself from time to time.

"Brings back memories, doesn't it?" Hawley asked, brushing against her shoulder. "This is where we first met," he said with a nod towards Abbie.

Abbie pursed her lips, and looked at her sister with a mix of concern and pity that set Jenny on edge.

Jenny looked away, towards the horizon. “We don’t have much time before the sun sets.”

Abbie opened the trunk, and they all reached for their weapons. “You and Hawley take the lead," she said to Jenny. "Crane and I will cover you.”

Jenny checked her rounds before she strapped her gun to her side. She caught Abbie staring at her. “What?”

“Just...be careful,” Abbie said.

“I've been doing this for years. I’ll be fine,” Jenny said. She turned, and led the way through the weeds to the pond.

“You sure this is the right place?” Hawley asked.

Jenny looked around. “Positive.”

“Lieutenant…” Crane’s fingers twitched as he looked around.

“I know,” Abbie whispered, “it’s quiet. Too quiet…”

Jenny kneeled and peered into the water. She saw her reflection and the deep red and gold of the sky above her as the day faded into night.

Hawley leaned next to her. “What’s supposed to happen?” he whispered.

Jenny frowned, and leaned closer to the surface. “Grace said I’d know what to do...”

She dipped her hands into the water, distorting her image as waves rippled across the surface. “Why does everything have to be so fucking cryptic?” she asked, turning towards Hawley.

He shrugged before his gaze shifted back to the water. “Mills!” He tried to scoot away but lost his footing and landed on his back.

Jenny’s reflection smiled and winked before it blew a kiss at Hawley. Jenny jumped, but a pair of hands rose from the pond and grabbed her arms, dragging her towards the water.

Hawley grabbed her waist. Crane and Abbie each grabbed a leg and tried to pull her back, but they were outmatched, and Jenny was pulled under.

The water’s frigid temperature took her breath away, stunning her into compliance before she began to struggle. She jerked her arms, but her abductor’s grip became tighter the harder she fought.

Jenny opened her eyes,and came face to face with a water nymph, still masquerading in Jenny’s form.

“I fooled you!” it said, releasing her to double over. Jenny’s own laughter rung in her ears.

Abbie, Crane, and Hawley were still holding onto her. She felt them pulling her upward once the nymph let go of her arms.

“Where are you going?” it asked, “I’ve been so lonely since the stream dried out. We have more games to play!”

Weeds rose from the bottom of the pond and wrapped around Jenny’s wrists and throat, pulling her deeper into the pond.

Her lungs began to burn as her oxygen levels depleted. The urge to inhale underwater became overwhelming, and she began to panick. She threw her arms in front of her just before she drew her last breath.

Light shot out of her hands and coiled into a ball. It collided with the nymph, who screeched and sneered at Jenny before it swam away. The weeds fell from her body, and Jenny was pulled back, gasping for air as soon as her head broke the surface.

Abbie brushed her hair back from her face and rubbed her shoulders. "What happened?"

"Water nymph," Jenny said, sputtering and shaking as she tried to pull air into her lungs.

Abbie's radio crackled, and Luke's clipped voice filled the air. "Abs, we're getting reports of weird activity down by the Tarrytown Swim Club. I thought you said this shit would be contained to the old mill."

Abbie froze. "Mama..."

They all looked to her.

"She tried to warn me," Abbie said. "I thought it was just her rambling." She glanced at Crane before she turned towards Jenny. "She said to stay away from still waters, that we should roll over to the River Jordan or something. She was trying to give us a warning."

"She must have meant the Hudson,” Jenny said.

"Lieutenant?"

“The slaves spoke in code to relay information undetected," Abbie said.

Crane stood and surveyed the pond. "I should have thought of it sooner...

"Care to clue us in, Professor?" Hawley asked.

"What is it, Crane?" Abbie asked.

"Grace would have needed a way to transport the escapees under her care from Sleepy Hollow to New York to board the ships leaving the country with the British.”

He pointed to a small creek in the distance. “In my day this pond was connected to a stream that led to the river. Your ancestor, Caesar, was responsible for loading grain and flour onto ships that carried them downstream and into the city."

He turned, and faced Abbie and Jenny. "I believe he provided the crucial escape route the Dixons needed to help those fleeing a life  in bondage."

"The swim club is on the river," Abbie said.

“It’s also on a lay line,” Hawley said, looking at an area map on his phone.

"We need to get over there," Jenny said.

Abbie's radio crackled again. Screaming could be heard in the background. "Abbie, get over here now!" Luke said.

Jenny wobbled as she got to her feet.

Hawley reached over and steadied her. "Take it easy.

  
"I'm fine," she said, twisting out of his grip. "Let's go!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Checkout the history of Philipsburg Manor in Sleepy Hollow, NY. The Philipses owned the manor, mills, and the surrounding farmland for several generations. http://www.hudsonvalley.org/education/philipsburg-manor/telling-story
> 
> 2\. The Philipses relied on slave labor to work their farmland and operate the mill. By 1750 the family owned 23 men, women, and children, including Caesar, the miller. You can learn more about them here (warning - the site autoplays loud music): http://www.hudsonvalley.org/slavery/


	14. Into the Abyss

Luke stood in the middle of the makeshift command center. He greeted Abbie with a nod, but tightened his jaw and squared his shoulders when he saw Crane behind her.

"Luke, get these people out of here!" Abbie said as she strode towards him. Most of the club’s members were gathering their belongings and rushing towards their cars, but a few stragglers were standing on the small beach.

"We're moving as fast as we can!"

Crane leaned forward. "Move faster."

A gust of wind drew Jenny’s attention towards the river. Mist rose from the surface, and the water began to churn. It parted, and the first line of Moloch’s army emerged.

Screams erupted from the crowd.The stragglers on the beach turned and ran, shoving those ahead of them aside.

“Shit!” Jenny said. She turned and ran towards the river, dodging panicked parents and frightened children as she raced towards the beach.

"Jenny, wait!" Abbie said.

Jenny glanced back. Abbie was running towards her, drawing her gun as soon as she cleared the line of civilians. Crane, Hawley, and several SHPD officers were just behind her.

She kept running, reaching for her gun and firing as she approached the beach. The soldiers continued their slow march through the water and onto the shore.

Jenny ducked as a soldier turned his bayonet and swung at her head, twisting her ankle as she planted her foot in the sand. She grimaced and tucked into a roll, grabbing his coat and impaling him on the sword of the soldier behind him.

"Stay down!" Abbie said.

Gunfire rang in Jenny’s ears, and another soldier fell by her side. She wiped the sand from her eyes and looked around. Crane and Hawley were locked in battle, and more soldiers were coming out of the water.

Abbie ran towards her. "Go. I'll cover you." She fired her gun, clearing a path for her sister.

Jenny pushed off the ground, ignoring the pain in her ankle as she raced towards the river. She reached the shoreline, and charged forward, gasping as cold water filled her boots and her clothing clung to her body.

She swam through the swell, fighting against the current when the water surged, and she was caught in a rip. It swept her into the center of the river and left her among a group of soldiers. They closed ranks, and pulled her under.

Jenny kicked her legs and swung her arms, trying to propel herself back towards the surface, but couldn’t break free, and was pulled deeper into the abyss. 

For the second time that day, she was certain she was going to die.

“You won't die here,” Katrina said.

A chill passed through Jenny’s body as Katrina’s voice floated through her skull.

"Not while you are under my protection. You can even breathe as you would on land.”

Jenny spun around, kicking her legs as she tread water. "Where are you?”  

"Your bravery is admirable, especially in one so new to the craft."

Jenny continued searching for a way out, but couldn't tell which direction would lead back to the surface."What is this place?"

“The unknown. A space between your world and mine.”

“Purgatory?”

“Not quite. We are just before its door. I thought you’d be more comfortable here, since you spend so much time with uncertainty.”

Jenny could hear her heart pounding over the eery silence. “You know nothing about me,” she said, hoping she’d put enough bass in her voice to fool Katrina.

“You question your place in this war. You told the truth and lost, while your sister was handed a future as a Witness."

“I know what you want,” Jenny said, “and it’s not for sale.” She started turning in a circle, searching for any distinguishing features of the area, but found none. She completed her turn, and jumped back.

Katrina appeared before her. Her hair floated in waves around her face, and her skin glowed against the murky water. “The grace within you is God given, passed down through the generations.” She paused, and eyed Jenny before she continued. “What kind of God leaves a child to suffer alone?”

Jenny shifted back, putting more space between herself and Katrina.

"Your sister’s betrayal led to so much misery in your life. She has a new partner, a clear mission. Where does that leave you?”

“I’ve moved past that,” Jenny said, but her mind wandered to the events of that afternoon. Abbie and Crane only needed a small push to get them moving in the right direction. They’d deciphered Katrina’s warning on their own, and it was Abbie who got them back on track after she’d led them astray.  

A heaviness fell over her. She redoubled her efforts to tread water, but each kick and turn of her limbs required more energy than the last.

“You’ve chosen to forgive your sister,” Katrina said. She paused, and watched Jenny struggle before she continued. “Has it removed the scars she placed upon your heart?”

It didn't. They were still there, and still hurt despite her efforts to put the past behind her.

Jenny’s vision blurred and her heart stopped pounding. She drifted closer to Katrina, silencing the small part of her brain that screamed in objection.

“Those who seek the truth should be rewarded for their fortitude. They should never question their place in the world."

Jenny's arms and legs stilled as her muscles began to relax.

Katrina smiled. “You possess a great gift—"

The shadows shifted. Jenny's vision cleared, and her eyes were drawn upward. A small boat floated above her. Beams of light cut through the darkness, sweeping the area from side to side. "Abbie..."

“She abandoned you once. Are you certain she won’t abandon you again?"

Nothing was ever certain, Jenny thought. Both her mother and Sheriff Corbin always said Abbie would return one day. She’d been too angry to listen back then, and thought they were fools. But then, there she was—requesting to see her at Tarrytown Psychiatric, tracking her to Corbin's cabin—with Crane by her side. She'd come back, just as they’d said, and she was here now, looking for her.

Jenny faced Katrina. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take.” She turned towards the surface, and felt her heart stop.

The boat was farther away.

A chill ran down her spine and settled in her stomach. She’d been sinking deeper into the abyss the entire time, and continued to be pulled below.

Katrina grabbed Jenny's arm, twisting her around until they were face to face. "What made you think you could just turn and walk away?”

She tightened her grip on Jenny’s arm, and they began to fall faster. “You’re a fool, just like your mother. She declined my offer. I tore her world to pieces, and she still believed the Witnesses would prevail.”

Anger rose from the pit of Jenny’s stomach and burned in her chest. She twisted out of Katrina’s grasp and threw her arms in front of her. "You bitch!"

Blinding white light erupted from her hands. It coiled into a beam and shot into Katrina's chest, knocking her into the abyss and propelling Jenny towards the surface.

She held her breath and swam towards the boat. Her lungs burned, and her arms and legs grew heavy. She’d almost reached the surface when her movements began to slow, and she could no longer ignore her body's demand to inhale.

She thought of Abbie, and all the things she wanted to tell her. Sadness settled in her heart. She was just about to draw her final breath when she heard Abbie calling her name.

"Jenny!" Abbie called again. She plunged into the water and extended her hand.

Jenny raised her arm above her head. Abbie grabbed her hand, and she was pulled up and out of the river.

"Pull them up!" Grace said.

Crane and Hawley dropped their flashlights and pulled the sisters onboard. They landed on the deck with a thud and shivered in the cool night air.

Crane pulled Abbie away, and held her back while Grace swept into her place. She put her hands over Jenny's chest, and expelled the water from her lungs.

Jenny gasped, and rolled to her side, sputtering and coughing up water.

Hawley helped her sit up before he made his way over to the ship’s controls.

The boat rocked as waves slammed into its sides. Luke’s voice came through the radio, calling for help from all area units above the sounds of battle in the background.

Abbie twisted out of Crane’s grasp, and pulled Jenny into her arms. "I thought I'd lost you."

Jenny stiffened in Abbie’s arms. She felt Abbie pull away and stare at her, but her mind was still reeling from her encounter with Katrina, and she couldn’t meet her eyes.  

Hawley pulled into a hidden cove just south of the swim club. They climbed out and looked upshore.

"We have to get over there," Abbie said to Crane, still holding onto Jenny.

"It's too late,” Jenny said.

Abbie squeezed her hand. "We'll find another way."

"There's always another way," Grace said. She smiled, and walked to the edge of the river. "Come, and place your hands in the water.

"You want her to go back in there?" Hawley asked. He threw his arms in the air and turned to Abbie.

"You don't have to do this," Abbie said.

Jenny turned towards the river. She paused, and listened to the police chatter blaring over the radio before she faced Abbie. "I have to try."

Abbie cupped Jenny's face between her hands and looked into her eyes. "You can do this," she said before she pulled her into a hug.

Jenny nodded. She pulled away, followed Grace down the riverbank, and waded into the water.

"The Witnesses should stay back," Grace said when Abbie and Crane moved forward to join them. “Your role is to witness what happens here.” She turned back to Jenny. "Now, ask the river to guide you. It will tell you what it needs to seal the doorway to Purgatory.”

Jenny shivered and struggled to stand against the current. She placed her hands in the river and waited, but felt nothing except the choppy waves of cold water slapping against her wrists. “I can’t feel anything!”

“Concentrate.”

They were out of time and out of options. Jenny was just about to suggest they head back to the archives to regroup when she felt another presence. It gathered around her hands and asked her to close her eyes. She did, and found herself floating in a clear lake before she was carried downstream. She passed through mountains and valleys, floated by old factories and decaying mills, was sickened by sewage and pollution when her journey to the Atlantic Ocean abruptly ended at the swim club.

“Send word to the ocean,” the river said.

“The ocean?” Jenny asked, “why—”

She stood, and opened her eyes. "Salt!"

Grace nodded. "The salt within its waters will seal the entrance to Purgatory. Use the river’s current to call the Atlantic upstream.”   

Jenny closed her eyes and pictured the ocean in her mind. She felt a flash of heat. Light shot out of her hands and spread over the water. She gasped, and found herself standing next to Grace and speeding downstream at the same time. Wind and spray hit her face as she made her way past Manhattan and turned, heading for the Atlantic. The sensation stopped just as suddenly as it began, and she found herself drifting in the ocean.

The water swelled, and a wave crashed over her head. She sputtered and struggled to brush her hair out of her face. The water swelled again. This wave carried her higher than the last. It crested, and broke over her head, plunging her underwater and holding her down for several seconds before she rose back to the surface, coughing and gasping for air.

She forced herself to ignore the stinging in her eyes and looked around. Darkness surrounded her. It coated the sky and blended into the horizon. There were no ships at sea, and no light from the shore.

Another wave began to form. Her heart pounded in her chest and her body began to shake. She felt faint, small, and alone. The water continued to rise, and Jenny opened her mouth to issue a plea she hadn’t uttered since her first night at Tarrytown Psychiatric. It started as a whisper and ended as a scream. “Help!”

“Jennifer,” Grace said, “I’m right here beside you. The ocean is reacting to your fear. Close your eyes. Breathe. Concentrate.”

Jenny froze “I—”   

“You can,” Grace said.

The wave had just begun to crest when Jenny closed her eyes, and exhaled. She fell, splashing down into a gentle wave, and calmed herself enough to picture the swim club in her mind. Her hands glowed. Light spread across the water before a small wave rose and fell in the distance, extinguishing her magic.

“Jennifer,” Grace said, “You cannot access the power needed to reverse the river’s current if you let your fear control you.”

Jenny closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her pulse slowed. The ocean stilled. Light illuminated her palms as she pictured the swim club in her mind. The glow spread up her arms and into her chest before it shot down her legs. The water swelled, and Jenny was propelled forward with the tide following behind her.

She passed the hidden cove, shocked to see herself standing with Grace as she surged upstream, drawing the army's attention. A unit of soldiers turned towards the cove.

"Incoming," Abbie shouted. She fired her gun. Crane and Hawley followed suit, providing cover for Jenny and Grace.

Jenny pressed forward, pulling the tide behind her. Moloch’s soldiers shrieked in agony as the saltwater burned the flesh from their bones. Their remains disintegrated, and were swept away in a wave.  

"Now,” Grace said, “Direct the flow down to the riverbed to seal the entrance to Purgatory.”

Jenny splashed down to the surface. Her light spread across the waves and caused the river to glow before she plunged underwater. The tide followed. She pushed her arms in front of her and focused on driving the saltwater into the abyss. The river began to bubble as the temperature increased. She heard Abbie screaming, begging Grace and Crane to pull her out.

She turned, and directed the flow across the riverbed. It began to glow, growing brighter as the passageway was closed. The intensity caused Jenny to shield her eyes just before an explosion rocked Sleepy Hollow. Light and water shot from the from bottom of the river high into the air. Brilliant shades of red and gold glowed against the sky before they faded, and all went quiet.  

“What the hell just happened?” Luke asked through the radio.

“Jenny...”

“Your sister? Abbie—”

“Not now, Luke.”

“I’ve got the police commissioner and the FBI on the phone. What am I supposed to tell these people?”

“Make something up! I’ll be there in a minute,” Abbie said. She switched off her radio, cutting off Luke’s response mid-sentence.

Jenny came to in Grace’s arms. She shivered under the blanket Hawley wrapped her in after he’d pulled her from the river. Grace rubbed her back and spoke to her in soothing tones, but her gaze remained upstream.

“Hey,” Abbie said, kneeling before her and taking her hands, “it’s over.”

Jenny turned towards Abbie, but couldn’t meet her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Abbie asked.

“When I was down there...” Jenny started. She paused, and bit her lip.

Hawley cleared his throat. “I’ll give you all a moment,” he said before he went to join Crane.

Abbie’s smile faded as she looked between her sister and Grace. “Hey,” she said to Jenny, “we’re going to be ok.”

“Yeah but when I was down there...I almost gave up on you.”

Abbie’s eyes softened. “Wouldn’t blame you if you did.”

Jenny shook her head. “Katrina knew things I’d been holding onto for years. If you hadn’t shown up…” She turned, and looked at Abbie. “I have to go,” she said, trying to stand. “You’re not safe with me here.”

Abbie and Grace pulled her back, and Jenny wobbled to the ground.    

“Jenny, wait,” Abbie said. Her grip tightened around Jenny’s hands. “Katrina lies. That’s what she does.”

“I’m sorry,” Jenny said, trying to back away.

Grace pulled Jenny back and waited for her to meet her eyes. "Those who seek the truth live a difficult life. Katrina knows this. To believe her lies was to fall deeper into the abyss. You were forced to face your fears and overcame them.”

Jenny started to argue, but Grace placed a hand on her cheek and smiled. “You’ve been lost and alone for so long,” she said, “but that life is over. You've found your way home."

Jenny choked back a sob. Her eyes shifted to Abbie.

“I can’t do this without you,” Abbie said, pulling her into a hug. “Whatever comes, we’ll keep fighting.” She tightened her grip, and swayed from side to side. “I love you.”

Jenny wrapped her arms around Abbie and leaned into her embrace. “I love you too.”

They clung to each other before Abbie pulled back. “Things would be pretty boring around here without you,” she said. “We have an opening for a witch on the team. Job’s yours if you want it.”

“Indeed,” Crane said, stepping forward. “I’ve grown rather fond of your attempts to get me to ‘lighten up,’ and we are in need of a witch.”

“Ok,” Jenny said, wiping away her tears, “I’ll stay.”

“I think this calls for a celebration,” Hawley said.

Jenny smiled, and started to respond when Crane’s cell phone rang.  

“Lieutenant, It’s Detective Morales. How did he get my number?”

“I’ll call him later,” Abbie said, glaring at Jenny. She shook her head and smiled. “Where do you want to go?”

Jenny paused. Mabie’s was always a good time. The tavern would be packed after the events of the night. Her eyes wandered over the group in front of her before returning to Abbie, and in that moment she knew there was no place she’d rather be. “Home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a five chapter max "little thing" that grew into something so much more.   
> Thank you for reading. I hope you've enjoyed reading this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it.


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